


Epiphany

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Post Bartlett Administration, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-10
Updated: 2005-08-10
Packaged: 2019-05-15 01:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 73,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.





	1. Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

   


 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
**Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

His tone was too light - jocular, almost giddy. Robin was still laughing as he brought the phone to his ear and chuckled, "Hello?" 

There was a pause so long he almost hung up, and then a rough voice saying, "You sound cheerful." 

He froze, fighting the urge to hold the phone away from his ear and stare at it. "Toby?" 

"Hi, Sam." He, on the other hand, was too casual, too deadpan. As though they spoke every day. 

Sam almost stammered. "How - how are you?" 

"Fine." It was a curt, quick, dismissive reply. Toby cleared his throat, moving on to the point. Some things never changed. "Look, I'm in town. I want to meet with you." 

Sam's eyes flicked reflexively to the woman across the table. "Meet?" 

"Well, you know - have a casual dinner, coffee, something." 

Toby did not have casual dinners, and a coffee clatch was even more unlike him. Sam frowned and rubbed the space between his eyes. "When?" It was somehow so much easier than asking what Toby was doing here, why he wanted to get together, why he hadn't called or emailed in so long, why now. 

Toby coughed on the other end. "Tomorrow for lunch?" he asked. "I'm, uh, I'm only here until Thursday morning." 

"What for?" Sam asked. Robin was casually sipping her water, but he could tell she was listening. He had turned too serious, too uncertain, too fast. 

There was another pause before Toby said in a rush, "I'm meeting with some people about a consulting job." 

"In New York?" Sam said in disbelief. New York was of course Toby's old stomping ground, but he'd thought the man would never leave the thick of DC politics. 

"No," Toby clarified, and that made more sense. "I mean I'm meeting with some people about them coming down to do a job in DC." 

"Ah." Sam couldn't remember what Toby was doing now, couldn't remember whether he'd ever known in the first place, and was too embarrassed to ask. He knew the older man had been with a consulting group for a while, but he had no idea which one. 

"Anyway." Toby continued flatly. "Lunch?" 

"Uh - yeah," Sam said, barely thinking. "You know where I work?" 

"Yes," Toby said in a way that bothered him a little. "There's a deli across the street from your office. I'll meet you there at 12:30." 

"Okay." Suddenly there was no one on the other end, and Sam was left looking at Robin in confusion. 

"Who was that?" she asked in a way that indicated she already knew. 

"Toby Ziegler," Sam replied, putting down his phone and picking up half of his sandwich compulsively. "He - we haven't talked in a while." 

"I got that impression." Her eyes widened slightly as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "What did he want?" 

"He wanted lunch." 

"Huh?" 

"He wanted to meet me for lunch, tomorrow." Sam took a slow bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "I have no clue why. We haven't - " He sighed and took another bite. 

"You have kept in touch, haven't you, since you left?" Robin asked. 

"Not -" He took a sip of coffee to stall. "We talked occasionally while they were still - while the President was still in office, you know, but afterwards - well, it got harder when everyone wasn't in the same . . ." He trailed off and shrugged. "I guess we just - it sounds weird to say we grew apart, but that's about it." 

Robin's forehead crinkled. "What's the matter?" 

He shook it off. "Eh. Nothing. Never mind." Fingers closed tightly around his coffee cup, he asked brightly, "So - you were telling me about Karen's recital." 

"Yeah." Robin grinned as she launched back into the story about her favorite niece. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Toby was waiting for him when he arrived, five minutes late, at the sandwich shop across the street from his office. He had already ordered and gave Sam a studied glare over the top of his roast beef sandwich. Sam thought that look was the most familiar thing he'd seen in over a year. 

He dropped his briefcase in the chair across from his former boss and gestured at the counter. "I'm going to get a sandwich." It was ridiculous of him to feel awkward with Toby, of all people - he would have thought that five years of staying up all night writing speeches together would have made them comfortable under almost any situation. 

The girl at the counter was slow and careful about loading his sandwich with vegetables and stroking the mayonnaise over one side of the bread with a painter's care. He shifted from foot to foot, willing himself not to glance over his shoulder to see if Toby was getting impatient. 

When he finally returned to the table, he asked, "So how is everyone?" 

"I want you to come back to DC," Toby said without prelude. 

"Okay, I hope that means everybody's good." Sam took a shaky bite of his corned beef and forced himself to swallow slowly. "You want me to come back to DC." 

"Yes." 

"Throwing a surprise party for Josh?" he joked, badly. 

"No," Toby replied humorlessly. Then he managed to crack a smile. "Although I hear we may have cause to throw him a party in the near future." He picked up his sandwich and gestured with it. "Don't worry, I'm sure they were going to tell you soon." 

"Tell me what?" Sam asked. "He got tenure?" 

"After a year?" Toby asked, laughing sardonically. "Not even Josh is that good. No, they're, uh - they're going to kill me for not letting them tell you themselves - they're procreating." 

Sam took a moment to digest this. "You're kidding." 

"Would I kid about the multiplication of Josh Lyman?" 

"They're - that's amazing. That's incredible." Sam waved his pickle in astonished glee. "I have to call him." 

"If anyone asks, C.J. spilled it," Toby said sternly. 

"Yeah," Sam said in the same stunned tone. 

"They only told people a couple days ago," Toby said. "I'm sure he was going to call you." 

"Yeah," Sam said, his tone more sober. Not wanting to dwell on the subject of communication between himself and the man who was once his closest friend, he went back to his sandwich. "So, why do you want me back in DC? It's obviously too soon for the bris." 

Toby ignored the joke. "I want you to come back, do some writing." 

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "I - you know I can't just pack up - even if I wanted to, I have things going here . . ." 

"It's an emergency," Toby said. 

Sam's eyebrows went up. "A speechwriting emergency?" 

Toby almost smiled. "You could say that. Yes." 

"What is it?" 

Toby tapped his knuckles on the table, letting his ring click against the plastic. "Hardigan's going to announce his retirement next week. He's not running for reelection." 

Sam's brain rolled seamlessly into analysis mode, despite the intervening years of pollution lawsuits. "That's - he's personally popular, but the seat is vulnerable. The last two Republican governors have garnered a lot of support, especially in the central part of the state. And Springfield in general has gotten more conservative." 

"Yeah." Toby coughed quietly. 

"Democrats are going to be lining up for the primary." 

"They already are," Toby said. 

Sam looked at him and observed the set of his jaw. "Who do you want?" 

"Andrea." 

Sam's eyebrows went up in immediate approval. "Andrea wants to make a run for the Senate?" 

"It's time," Toby said, a trifle uncomfortably. Sam could easily see how advancing his ex-wife's cause could feel mildly strange, even considering the general friendliness of the Ziegler divorce. 

"It is time," Sam acknowledged. "She's wildly popular in Boston. She sailed through the last campaign season, even when . . ." 

"Even when Trotter brought out the divorce and called her an opportunistic harpy?" Toby supplied. 

"Yeah." Sam blushed slightly. "She's already beaten the family values police. She got a lot of support nationally back in '03 over the terrorism bills." He was shaking his head now, retreating into his own brain. "The Massachusetts delegation likes her. National headquarters marked her years ago as the poster girl for fair application of criminal penalties. And she's attractive, well- spoken, younger than any of the other women in the Senate." He smiled and returned to his sandwich with particular relish. "She could do it." 

"So come help us." 

Sam ignored the plaintive request as long as he could, teasing instead, "You're running her campaign?" 

Toby grunted. "She wanted the best." 

Sam chuckled outright. "And we know who's still the head of the Ziegler household." 

"You understand we haven't actually been a household for like nine years, right?" Toby groused. "Look, you going to help or not?" 

"Toby . . ." This was definitely not going to be easy. "I would love to - I'm there for you, and you know how I feel about Andy, and of course she deserves to win and she has a great chance, but - I have a life." 

Toby raised an eyebrow and glanced through the glass window, across the street to Sam's office building. "Suing corporate polluters?" 

"You have a problem with the environment?" 

"No, but you have a complex." 

Sam looked at him over his corned beef. "Excuse me?" 

"How many more years are you going to sacrifice to making up for something you think you did?" 

"Excuse me?" Sam repeated. 

"You worked for a corporate firm once, it's done, it wasn't a crime." Toby took a long drink of coffee that had grown cool. "This - crusade you're on, it was fine for a while, but - it's time to get up off the mat." 

"I'm not on the mat," Sam said, fingertips resting on his sandwich but not picking it up. "Last month we won a six million dollar settlement from Aron Wheeler for dumping toxic muck into a watershed area upstate. Six months ago a jury judgment in a class action suit against three joint defendant corporations who contributed to a two hundred percent increase in airborne pollutants in a handful of towns outside Buffalo. Got almost a hundred thousand dollars each for a whole group of kids with increased asthma complications. This morning I was researching a brief for a pending action against an oil company responsible for a spill off the Maine coast. I am not *on* the mat." 

Toby blinked, mildly surprised at the anger in his former deputy's voice. "Okay. Okay. You're a smashingly successful defender of the environment. Is that really what you want to spend the rest of your life doing? I mean it's great that you care about the watersheds, and it's important, but have you forgotten that you used to care about education? Welfare? Medicare? War, for God's sake?" 

"I care," Sam said quietly. "I didn't just stop - I care." 

"Can you tell me you don't honestly think that the United States Senate will be better if we put Andrea in it next year?" 

"No," Sam replied. 

"Then?" 

"I can't just quit my job," he said weakly. 

That was a mistake, he knew as soon as he saw the look on Toby's face. Surprisingly, the older man chose not to comment. Instead, he said almost gently, "You've given it five years, Sam. That's enough for anybody. You've been an environmental attorney. You've done it. Now it's time to do this." He took a deep breath. "This - is not the same thing you did before. This is a new ballgame. You'd be able to get legislation introduced directly. Access to the committees without party wrangling. Access to suggest the things you care about, without having twenty cabinet secretaries and under-secretaries in the way." 

"I know," Sam said. 

"And it's - God, it's Andrea. I'm not suggesting she's Mother Teresa, but - it's not like working for someone you don't know, someone you have to get used to." 

"I love Andy," Sam said. He caught Toby's eye and added quickly, "Well, you know." 

"Yeah," Toby said a bit sternly. 

Sam coughed. "Is there - is there something at stake here you're not telling me about?" 

"I want you to get back in the party, Sam," Toby said evenly. 

"Why?" Sam asked in an equally calm tone. 

Toby cleared his throat. "There is," he said in a studied, moderate way, "a dearth of young leadership in the party. At this time." 

"Since when have you cared about 'the party'?" Sam asked, reaching for his lunch again. 

"Since it lost the White House," Toby glared. "Hoynes is going to run again in 2010, which is fine, but the next generation isn't stepping up to the plate. We don't have a Hoynes in the Senate right now. We don't have another Ryan, another Zimmer. Those guys are getting old. The governors aren't contenders. None of those guys are Bartlet." 

"So?" 

"Sam, everyone in the world knew the President was grooming you. Anyone who was conscious knew it. You need to come back." Having stated his case bluntly, Toby calmly swallowed the rest of his sandwich and waited for Sam to respond. 

It was a long few moments while the younger man stared out the window. When he finally spoke, he said nothing about Toby's suggestion that he should return to politics, nothing about the idea that the former President had been grooming him to run someday. He said instead, "I've been seeing someone - this woman - Robin. She's a lawyer in the Manhattan DA's office. It's not serious, you know, but - I don't want to . . ." 

"It's not serious?" Toby asked, letting Sam take the conversation where he wanted, for the moment at least. 

"That sounds stupid," Sam conceded, still looking across the street. "I'm not - I'm not telling you that I'm passing up a triumphal return to politics because of a woman I'm not serious about. I'm just - it's starting something, it's a consideration." 

Toby was somehow fighting the urge to shake Sam. "You like her?" he asked. 

"She's a good person," Sam said, finally turning his head and meeting Toby's eyes. "She's smart, witty, good at her job. She cares about things. She's - very attractive." 

"Well, that sounds like passion to me," Toby said dryly. 

"Jesus, Toby, I'm nearly forty years old," Sam said, flicking impatiently at a sugar packet. "I almost got married when I was thirty. In the ten years in between, I haven't managed to stay with anyone for more than about ten minutes. I never intended to be a middle-aged single man. And God, even Josh . . ." 

"I am a middle-aged single man," Toby pointed out, "and I'm fifty years old and working for the woman who left me nine years ago. You think I planned that?" 

Sam did manage a real laugh. "I know. I know. I just - how did we get here this fast? How did we become *former* leaders of the party this fast? Sitting around thinking about how old I've gotten, how the decade of my life that was supposed to be the high point just passed me by - and somehow I managed to turn back into a jaded litigator, just on the other side - and Josh is a mature, respected university professor?" He tossed the sugar packet across the table, landing it neatly in the holder. "How did *that* happen?" 

Toby snorted. "Leo and Donna are remarkably effective when they gang up on a person." He sighed. "The point is, you don't have to be a former anything. You're not old yet. You're barely older than Josh was during the first campaign. Hell, I'm not even old yet. And Andrea certainly isn't. We've all got blood in us still." 

"I know," Sam replied. 

"So come back." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The door opened on Josh's broadly grinning face, his free arm wide open. For one moment Sam's heart leapt up in his chest, and then he realized that somehow his worst fears had become completely ridiculous. Josh just beamed at him and dragged him into the house, yelling, "Sam's here!" 

Sam dropped his overnight bag self-consciously on the wood floor, gazing around the foyer with wide eyes. "Josh, the house is great," he said, acutely aware that he should have been here long before now. "It's - I don't believe you live here." 

"Yeah, me either," Josh said, still grinning. 

"I mean, there's grass out front. Not a lot, but still grass." 

"I know." 

Sam couldn't help smiling in response. "You look great." 

Josh raked a hand over his hair. "Yeah, well - I've been lucky." He shrugged almost apologetically. "We have." 

Sam's smile grew more thoughtful. "Yeah," he said softly. 

As if on cue, Sam heard footsteps echoing from the next room. He turned his head in time to see Donna coming toward them, her flat shoes alerting them to her arrival. She looked amazingly the same, long hair falling over her thin shoulders and her eyes as bright as ever. In the year since he'd managed to see her in person she'd somehow gained some gravitas, however - perhaps as the result of being an "older" student among college kids. Sam examined her closely, but she didn't seem to have filled out any. Then again, he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to tell if she had. 

She greeted him with a slightly trembling smile, and her arms held wide, half-running the last few steps. He returned her tight embrace with emthusiasm, as she murmured completely unself- consciously, "I missed you." 

"I missed you, too," he replied honestly. One hand gently cradled the head tucked against his shoulder and he said quietly, "The phone doesn't really do it, huh?" 

"No," she laughed. She leaned her forehead against his for a moment before pulling away, and he let one hand graze lightly over her abdomen, not sure whether that would be rude. 

"And congratulations," he whispered. He looked up at Josh as Donna pulled back and said, "Both of you. I mean, I know we talked, but - really, I'm so excited." 

"So are we," Josh said with cheerful irony, letting one eyebrow drift up. He rested one arm around Sam's waist and one arm around Donna's, leaning between them with a casual affection. "Come on, let's get this guy fed." 

Donna tucked an arm through his as they walked through the house, telling him, "So, we invited a few other friends for dinner tomorrow." 

"I know Toby's coming," Sam replied. 

"So's Leo." Donna took his bag from him and dropped it in a corner of the couch as they passed the living room. "Mallory's having dinner with Jenny . . ." 

"Leo's not going up to New Hampshire?" 

They had reached the kitchen by then, and Josh started getting out plates as Donna steered Sam into a seat. "No, he decided not to make the trip since Mallory's due so soon . . ." She glanced nervously at Sam, but he seemed unfazed by the comment. "Anyway, so Josh asked him over with us. And, uh, Andy Wyatt's coming." 

Sam turned to Josh and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You sandbagged me?" he asked in disbelief. 

"We did not sandbag you," Josh replied indignantly. 

"Did you, or did you not, ask me down for a quiet Thanksgiving dinner with you and your pregnant wife, with the intention of trapping me at dinner with the people who want me to quit my job and come work for them?" 

"Once I unravel that sentence, I'm sure I'll disagree," Josh said, diving into the fridge. "Tuna or turkey?" 

"Sam," Donna said, sitting down next to him, "we haven't seen you in a year. We just wanted to get all our friends together - and we've been seeing a lot of Andy lately, since she and Toby have been talking more. And she didn't have anywhere to go for the holiday either, so . . ." Her hand dropped to her tiny four-months- pregnant bump as she spoke, and Sam was immediately seized with guilt - despite his full awareness that that was probably exactly what Donna wanted. 

"Tuna," he said in a small voice. She beamed at him and stood up. "I missed you guys, too," he told her back as she leaned into the fridge. 

She closed the door and placed a jar of mayonnaise on the counter, giving him a knowing smile. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Despite his claims of uninvolvement, the moment Andrea Wyatt walked through the door Sam's eyes were drawn to her, observing, assessing. She looked even better in person than she had lately on C-SPAN - her bright hair showed only a tiny glimmer of grey, her face was still youthful and bright, and she looked elegant even in the jeans and sweater she was wearing for the holiday. She arrived early in the day, before any of the other guests, ostensibly for the purpose of helping Donna prepare dinner. 

"Good morning, Congresswoman," Sam called from the kitchen table, where he was drinking his second cup of coffee. He was painfully aware of his jeans and still wet-from-the-shower hair, and had to remind himself that he was not on a job interview. 

"Hey, Sam," Andy called in her usually warm tone - usual for when she wasn't mad at someone, anyway. She came around the table and hugged Donna, which surprised Sam a little, and also grazed a gentle hand over the younger woman's stomach. "You look great," she told Donna, taking her hands. "Point me toward something that needs to be cooked." 

"You really don't need to help," Donna insisted. "You could relax and bother Sam instead." Sam glared hard at her, but Donna studiously refused to glance in his direction. 

Andy laughed and shed her trench coat, hanging it on the row of hooks in the kitchen doorway. "I have no time to cook any other time of the year. It'll be fun." 

"Okay," Donna acquiesced easily. "Want to roll out pie crusts?" 

"Oooh, yes," Andy said with a glee that made Sam smile. While Donna got out the necessary equipment, Andy came over to the table and dropped a hand on his shoulder. "So how do you like being back in DC?" she asked. 

He looked up at her suspiciously, but she was concentrating on the dough Donna had spread on the table. "It's - nice, actually," he said. "I mean, it's been great to see Josh and Donna. And I missed the neighborhoods. New York has them, too, of course, but I do enjoy the lack of skyscrapers. And it is about three degrees warmer here, so my morning jog was nice." 

Andy smiled and carefully plied the rolling pin Donna had handed her. "Yeah. I like going up to my district, of course, but I've always loved it here." 

"I was up in your district last month," he said casually. 

She looked up with interest. "Were you?" 

"Yeah, I took my - a friend up to the Vineyard." 

"Robin?" 

He glared at Andy. "Toby has a big mouth." 

Donna raised a flour-covered hand. "Actually, that was me." 

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Now you're gossiping over the phone with members of Congress?" 

"Actually, it wasn't over the phone," Andy said. "Donna's working part-time in my office." 

"You did not tell me this," Sam accused. 

"I just started a couple weeks ago," Donna explained. "It's really more of an internship, but we would have had a hard time convincing my professors I needed an internship in a Congressional office, so . . ." 

"Yeah, you have to figure you would have picked up a few things working for the White House Deputy Chief of Staff for eight years," Sam commented. "So why are you doing it? It obviously isn't for the work experience." 

"It is, in fact," Andy answered for her. "Donna's interested in crafting legislation. She's working with two of my LAs on the reform bill." 

"That wasn't something I got to do at the White House," Donna added. She wiped her hands on a towel and glanced down ruefully. "Plus, writing and research involve a lot less footwork than being Josh's assistant." 

This was the first mention she'd made of restricting her activity in any way, and Sam was instantly alarmed. "You're feeling okay, aren't you?" he asked quickly. It hit him suddenly that, while they all thought of her as the young blood of the group, Donna was in fact a woman having her first child at thirty-three. 

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied hastily, smiling down at him. "I'm just looking ahead. Eventually I'm going to get a lot tireder, and this way I won't have to slow down at work." 

"Okay," he said doubtfully. 

"She's fine," Andy said, poking him with the end of the rolling pin. "We're keeping an eye on her." 

That made him look at Andy a little differently, which he wasn't sure was a good thing. 

When Toby arrived two hours later, Sam cornered him at the door. "You brought Andrea to dinner, and now Donna's working for her?" he asked without bothering with the pleasantries. "What the hell are you trying to do to me?" 

"I'm not sure how furthering Donna's career qualifies as doing something to you," Toby said mildly. "Anyway, I didn't get her the job. Andy offered." He hung his coat over the railing and headed toward the kitchen, calling, "Josh? Donna?" 

Sam could only follow him in general bewilderment. 

Toby slapped Josh on the back just in time to stop him from tasting the bowl of cranberries on the table. "You don't want to eat those anyway," Andy said, looking up. "Not before the sugar's been added." 

Toby gave his ex-wife an awkward kiss on the cheek, in their usual mode. She, on the other hand, seemed more bemused than awkward. She patted his back as he moved over to the stove to kiss Donna. "Don't let Andrea do the cranberries," he warned. "She puts in too much sugar." 

"I like it that way," Josh said, pulling up a chair at the table. 

Donna rolled her eyes. "I know, we're doing you and Sam a separate bowl." 

"Excellent." 

Sam stood up from the table. "I'll be right back, I just need to make a phone call." 

Robin sounded a little surprised to hear from him. "How are your friends?" she asked after he explained he'd just wanted to chat. 

"They're great," he said, sitting down on the guest room bed with his cell phone. "Josh has gotten twelve years younger since I last saw him. And Donna's showing a little." 

"Does she mind?" Robin asked, which he thought was kind of a strange question. 

"I think she's excited," he replied. "But she's decided to take next semester off and graduate next January instead of May. The baby's due in April, so finals are kind of out for her." He cleared his throat. In the kitchen with Josh and Donna, and even Toby and Andy, he'd suddenly had the urge to talk to someone who belonged to him. He'd thought somehow he would have more to say to Robin. 

"Is Toby there?" 

"Yeah," he answered slowly. He hadn't told Robin about Toby's request, telling her only that his friends had wanted to see him for the holiday - which was technically true. 

Robin was quiet for a moment before she said, "It's probably rude of me to speculate, and of course I don't know her at all, but - it seems like Donna should mind having this pregnancy interrupt her education like that. Especially since it was interrupted once before." 

"She really doesn't mind," Sam said, smoothing his hand over the bedspread. "It's only a semester, and you know neither of them is getting younger. Age-wise, this is a good time for her." I'm not getting any younger, either, he added silently. 

"I'm just saying, if it were me . . ." 

"If it were you, what?" he asked with some interest. 

"I would be kind of pissed at my husband for thinking my life could be put on hold." 

Sam coughed a little into the phone. "You know, I think Donna was probably part of the whole conception experience." 

"She's the woman," Robin said determinedly. "And younger than he is, which is important, you know. It's not like she has a lot of power." 

"You don't know Donna," he said, managing a laugh that had little to do with the conversation. You really don't know Donna, he thought. 

"She can't have decided . . ." 

"She probably did," Sam interrupted. "I mean, I haven't sat them down and asked them if their child was an accident, but - Donna's not the kind of person who cares about finishing one thing before she gets started on something else. She can handle this. She'll probably love it - she'll be bringing the baby in to show him off at conferences with her thesis advisor. She's not -" He had really almost said 'she's not like you.' "She doesn't seem to mind dealing with the baby at the same time as her professional life." 

"Whatever works for her, I guess," Robin said. "Right now I'm trying to picture plunking a baby down on my desk at the DA's office." 

He decided to change the direction of the conversation as quickly as possible. "How are your parents?" he asked. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

When they were finally all seated around the table, the football games turned off and the candles lit, everyone turned naturally to Leo at the head. He frowned and dropped a napkin on his lap. "Why is everyone looking at me right now?" 

Josh glanced around at his wife and Toby. "I think we thought you'd, you know, say something." 

"Say something?" 

"Leo." 

"Okay, okay." Leo cleared his throat and glanced around at the table. "Well. Obviously I'm very thankful to be here with you all, instead of listening to the history of apple stuffing." They all smiled, but not very much. Everyone knew he would probably have liked to be with his old friend this year - the former President had had a string of respiratory infections lately and had looked thin and pale on TV earlier in the week. 

Leo reached over and patted Donna's hand. "And of course we all thank Donna for cooking for all of us - and Andrea," he added, "and we're looking forward to meeting the first White House baby." That made everyone smile, and he went on, "And we hope of course that by next year we're congratulating Congresswoman Wyatt on a title bump, eh?" Andy smiled back at him, and Sam squirmed slightly. Leo finished briefly, "And I'm thankful that I get to be a grandfather while I'm still relatively young enough to enjoy it. I know we all have a lot to be grateful for, and especially that we have Sam back with us for a while." Sam and Leo's eyes met over the table, and the older man smiled. "So, let's eat." 


	2. Epiphany 2

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Sam stood nervously in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The girl at the desk, a brunette around twenty-three years old, was intent on something she was reading in her lap and didn't see him. When he finally took a tentative step into the office, she looked up and her eyes grew wide. 

"Mr. Seaborn?" she guessed. 

He turned on a charming smile. "No one was expecting me." 

"I recognized you from TV," the girl said. "Are - are you here to see Congresswoman Wyatt?" 

Sam fought back a sigh. "Yes. If she's busy, I don't have to see her right now. I could just come back -" 

"No, she's not busy," the girl said, standing up from her desk. "Let me get her scheduler to make sure, but she should be able to see you now." 

"Damn," Sam muttered under his breath as she left the room, calling, "Nola?" 

Another dark-haired woman poked her head out from the inner office and smiled when she recognized Sam. "Hi," she said. 

"Hi, Nola," he replied, leaning against the wall. "If she's busy . . ." 

"She's not," the scheduler assured him. She ducked back into the office, calling, "Andrea . . ." 

A moment later, Andy's head appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Sam," she called cheerfully. "Come on back." 

Sam emitted something like a whimper under his breath as he followed her back into her office. 

Andy tossed out two aides and Nola, motioning for Sam to take one of the chairs in front of her big oak desk. She sat down behind it, folding her hands neatly over the copy of Congressional Quarterly that sat on the blotter. "Toby didn't mention you would be coming down," she said. 

Sam coughed and said, "He didn't know." 

"Oh." Andy picked up a pen and spun it between two fingers. "So, what can I do for you?" 

He almost rolled his eyes, but fought the urge. "Well, if you're still hiring . . ." 

She smiled. "Yeah, sorry. Just messing with you a little there." Putting down the pen, she turned serious and asked, "So, you want to come back?" 

"Everyone keeps calling it `coming back,'" he complained mildly. 

"What would you call it?" she asked. 

"Coming back," he replied, coughing again. He spread his hands in front of him. "Toby said - you know what Toby said." His confidence returned a little as his eyes met hers. "I think you should run - I think you should win - and I want to help." 

Her half-smile turned into a full one and she held her hand over the desk. He took it, but asked, "Don't you want to, I don't know, ask me something?" 

"What's the capital of North Dakota?" 

"Funny." He pulled his hand back. "That's it?" 

"It's not as if I don't know your work, Sam," she pointed out. "Then again, I guess maybe you'd like some details." 

"A few, would be good," he replied. "A starting date, for instance." 

"Yeah." Andy leaned back in her seat. "Well. We obviously have some time before the primary, but not too much - the campaigning will start pretty much at the new year. And of course we'll want to do some planning - by `we' I mean you and Toby, you know." 

"Right," he said, beginning to smile. 

"So," she continued. "It's the first week of December. How much notice do you need to give your office?" 

"I was thinking about that," he answered slowly. "Probably three months, but I could cut back my hours and come down here from Friday to Monday, work with you and Toby on the weekends. If that's okay." 

"With Toby, anyway," she said. "Weekends I tend to be in Massachusetts. So you could be down here full time by the beginning of March?" 

"Maybe February. I'm going to try to get away with two months' notice, if possible." 

"Okay," she nodded. "That's fine. That's good. We won't be doing too much until then anyway, I suppose." She stopped and eyed him. "What would you think of spending a couple weekends with me in Massachusetts between now and then? There'll be a few early dinners and party fundraisers, and you could start to get the lay of the land up there." 

"Sure," he agreed, a little taken aback. "I could do that. Sounds good." 

"Good." She grinned. "Relax, Sam, this isn't an interview." 

"It isn't?" he asked, matching her look. "Damn - if I knew I already had the job I wouldn't have broken out the good tie." 

Andy bit a corner of her lip. "Look, I have no right to ask this, and feel free to charge me with sexual harassment or something, but \- what are you going to do about your girlfriend?" 

"Robin?" He shrugged. "I don't really know. I haven't actually told her I'm moving yet." 

"Sam," she said, giving him a look. 

"I know. I know. I'm not really looking forward to that conversation." 

"Are you going to break it off?" Immediately Andy shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I just - don't want you to come down here and be miserable." 

"Because a miserable speechwriter isn't a good speechwriter?" he asked. 

"You couldn't give me some credit for genuine human kindness?" 

"You are a member of Congress." 

"Point taken." 

He shook his head. "It's fine, though. I haven't really decided what I'm going to do. It's not really that serious, so - but on the other hand, if it's not that serious anyway, there's no real need to break it off. We can have a casual long-distance relationship just as easily." 

"I suppose," Andy said, making a face. "Can I offer some free advice?" 

"Sure." 

"I had a long-distance relationship once. I don't recommend it." 

"Bad?" 

She shrugged. "His job kept him away all the time. We didn't fight, but - we were never in the same state." 

"Was it serious?" 

"Well, we were married." 

"Oh." He winced. "Yeah. Forgot about that for a second." 

She waved it off. "Water under the bridge. Just - talk to her, would you, please? So you don't have to moon around my office?" 

"You know, when I worked in this town last? My old boss didn't tell me how to run my love life." 

"You had at least three bosses, all of whom told you how to run your love life," she pointed out. 

"Toby actually didn't." 

"Well, he doesn't like to sound stupid." 

Sam laughed out loud, and offered her his hand again. When she took it, he said firmly, "You're going to win this." 

She only nodded. "I'll see you soon." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So, you know Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt?" 

Robin picked up her wine glass and swirled the liquid around in it. "Massachusetts?" 

"Yeah." 

"Sure. Tall woman, red hair? She's on - foreign relations and judiciary?" 

"Very good," Sam said. "I'm impressed. I didn't actually think you followed politics that closely." 

"I don't usually," she replied. "But a college friend works at EMILY's List, and she sends me stuff on the women candidates they're pushing. She likes Wyatt." 

"Oh. Good," he said, momentarily set back. "Anyway. She used to be married to Toby Ziegler." 

"Andrea Wyatt? Really?" Robin took another sip from her glass and set it back on the table. "That's - weird. Isn't he old for her?" 

Sam shrugged. "Not that much. So. This - might be inside information, but Andrea's thinking of running for Hardigan's Senate seat next year. Don't tell your friend." 

"My who? Oh, at EMILY's List. Ellen." 

"Yeah. Don't tell her yet, okay?" 

"Okay," Robin agreed, with a look that indicated she planned to forget all about Andrea Wyatt by the next morning. 

He had a feeling that wouldn't happen. "He - Toby - wants me to come back to DC and work on her campaign." 

Robin was silent for a while before she asked, "Is that why he came up here in October?" 

"Yes." 

"To ask you to go back into politics." 

"Yes. And to hire a media consultant." 

"Were you going to tell me this at some point?" She was laughing and trying to make light of it, but the laughter was hollow. 

"I'm telling you now." That was clearly a terrible explanation. "I hadn't decided anything yet, so I didn't want to . . ." 

"And now you have decided?" she asked, looking at him closely. 

"Yes." Inwardly he groaned. "I'm going to do it." 

"Ah." A few strands of her shoulder-length blonde hair had tumbled forward, and she shoved them back with both hands. "Okay." She was obviously trying hard to appear calm and casual, but it wasn't working all that well. 

"I didn't decide this easily," he said. 

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Are you - how long will you be down there?" 

Oh, hell. He sighed, trying to do it quietly. "Actually - a while." That was not entirely honest. He tried again. "If Andrea gets elected, I'm going to join her staff." 

One of Robin's eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. "You want to be an aide on the Hill? Didn't you do that in your twenties like everybody else?" He started to answer and she shook her head. "Sorry, that was incredibly rude. I just - you were a senior advisor to the President. You want to staff a junior senator - who hasn't been elected yet?" 

"I don't know what to tell you that will make you understand," he said. He met her eyes, and a corner of his mouth turned up. "I want to go back to shaping legislation, and Andy will let me do it." 

"Andy?" she drawled. 

"Congresswoman Wyatt," he amended. 

"Uh-huh." 

"Plus -" There had to be a way out of this ditch. "It's a way to remind people that I exist. Get back into the swing." 

"Two months ago you had no intention of getting back into anything," Robin pointed out. Her cheekbones were beginning to flush. "You didn't want those people to remember that you existed. You said you didn't want to go back to Washington. Then you spend one weekend with Josh Lyman - and, I'm guessing, Andrea Wyatt - and suddenly you want to `shape legislation' again?" 

"It's hard to explain," he said, ignoring the danger signals flashing through his brain. "There are just - I had made up my mind, but there will always be things that make you - sometimes there's just a candidate who's worth all the trouble." 

"And that's Andrea Wyatt." 

"I think she is, yes." 

Robin looked at him, and he looked back at her, and their impasse lasted for several strained moments. Finally she asked, "How well do you know her?" 

"As well as I know any other Democrat in Congress. A little more because she's Toby's wife. Ex-wife." 

"So you think of her as Toby's wife." 

"Actually, I do, yes. Which makes her - kind of scary." He tried to smile at her. "Look, Robin. I'm sorry I didn't bring this up sooner. But I honestly didn't know what I was going to do. It took a lot for Toby to convince me to come back. And it *was* Toby who did the convincing. I like Andy, but I've only talked to her a few times since they made the offer." He was aware that he kept calling her Andy, even to an outsider, but it seemed okay. She was his new employer, and he was proud of her. 

And then it occurred to him that there might be an even better answer to provide, and one that might get him out of the trouble he seemed to be in. "I think," he said slowly, "that there might have been something else affecting my decision to move back down." 

Robin narrowed her eyes, but not in a particularly bad way. "What?" she asked, sounding honestly curious. 

"Josh and Donna asked me to be a godfather," he said. "Well, one of them. They decided to have four godparents - a Jewish set and a Christian set." 

"Creative," Robin said. "Well, that's nice. It's sweet they picked you." 

"Yeah," he said. "So, when the job came up, and it sounded pretty good - and it also meant being near them when the baby's born - you know . . ." He watched her reaction carefully. 

Robin might not have been particularly sentimental about other people's babies, but she was capable of being sentimental about Sam. Her face melted and she reached out and touched the side of his cheek lightly. "That's cute. It really is. And I'm sure they'll love to have you around." 

"I really would have told you, if I had made up my mind sooner." 

"I know." She sighed. "So. When do you move?" 

"First week of February. I talked to Ken today, and he's okay with two months' notice. But I'll be spending a few weekends with - the campaign." `With Andrea' would probably have been a bad idea. 

"Okay," Robin said quietly. 

He took a deep breath. "I'd like it if you'd come down after the New Year and help me pick out an apartment. I mean, you'll be coming to visit and all." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The knot of people gathered close together, all completely fascinated. The tall, reed-thin man with the frazzled greying hair was pointing out over the beach, gesturing with the starfish he held in his hand. "This area to the south is doing okay at the moment, but the northern strip is still growing at the rate of about three new houses completed per month. Some of those are replacing houses that have already collapsed because of erosion, but the problem is that the building blocks sand further back on the island and actually hastens the erosion process." 

Sam shifted back onto his heels, enjoying the feel of the sand under his feet even in the decidedly non-beach-weather. It actually was an uncharacteristically warm day for January, with not too much wind and no rain or snow. The people gathered for the talk were only wearing sweaters and sweatshirts, with a few of the smaller children in mittens. 

"The same process is taking place not only here on the New England coast, but all up and down the eastern seaboard and in the Gulf areas as well. When people try to develop barrier islands, they invariably speed up the natural processes of erosion and migration \- as well, of course, as causing irreparable damage to the wildlife of the area." 

A hand went up at the back, and a middle-aged man with a toddler strapped to his back asked, "Ma'am? If we've known for years this is happening, why hasn't there been a law against building on barrier islands?" 

Andrea Wyatt glanced at the university professor at her side and then turned her full attention back to the crowd. "You would think that would be an easy question, wouldn't you?" she asked. "The answer is, actually, that people have tried. Over the last few decades, several Democrats in both the House and Senate have tried to pass protective legislation for barrier islands, and they've had some success in terms of getting some areas designated as state parks or national seashores. But they haven't been able to pass any kind of blanket protections." 

"Why not?" The question came from the wife of the first man. 

Andrea smiled at her, brushing loose hair behind her ear. "Well, there's been some trouble getting that kind of legislation out of committee." Her eyes met Sam's, and he nodded subtly. They'd talked about her being too technical when speaking to crowds of constituents. "Meaning the environment committee doesn't want the legislation to pass, so they don't bring it to the rest of the House. Or the Senate. In the years since the Republicans have been in control of both houses of Congress, Democrats have had a lot of difficulty passing environmental protections that would compete with the interests of big business." 

A girl about twelve years old, standing with her mother near the front of the group, raised her hand and waited for Andrea to nod at her. "So," she asked, "the Republicans like the businesses more than the beaches?" 

Sam and Andrea exchanged a look that clearly said `this does not happen outside of campaign commercials.' He could barely keep himself from jumping up and down as Andrea placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and said, "Well, the problem is that some Republicans care a little more about businesses and money than they do about taking care of the environment." 

"But you care more about the environment?" 

Sam's eyes widened. If he didn't know for sure that the contrary was true, he'd swear Andy had planted this kid. But the families had all responded randomly to the same flyer, advertising a tour of the barrier island and a talk on conservation with Professor Steve Keller and Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt. 

Andy grinned at the girl. "Yeah, I do. That's why I wanted to come here with Professor Keller and talk to you all." 

When the formal talk was concluded, about half the people - the hardcore science aficionados - swamped the professor, while the other half ambled hesitantly over to Andrea. They soon saw that she was open to conversation and started tripping over each other's sentences, telling her all about their opinions on conservation work in Massachusetts. As well, of course, as their opinions on Social Security, education, and the high cost of health insurance. Everyone who spoke to her got a business card out of Andrea's pocket and an invitation to call the Washington office or the district office any time, or to drop in and chat with the staff. 

Sam stood off to the side, leaning against a rock wall, as the campaign photographer snapped shots of Andrea talking with the crowd. It didn't get any better - the sky was blue, the water was shining, Andy made a perfect picture in her jeans and rugged camping vest, and the people talking with her looked happy and impressed. Some of them treated her formally; others - brash, I'm-a-taxpayer- and-you're-my-representative types - called her `Andrea' and promised to visit her DC office. She shook all their hands, patted babies, and promised to tell her friends on the environment committee all about beach erosion. 

To the girl who'd asked about Republicans, Andy handed a card with a special invitation to call her in Washington `so we can tell you all about being a page in a couple years.' The girl's mother said her older daughter might be interested in an internship, and Andrea made a fuss about writing down the older sister's name. The mother looked about to fall over herself with gratitude. 

In the car on the way to Andrea's local house, Sam couldn't stop talking about the event. "Seriously, genius. I mean, I had my doubts about something that small, but - those pictures will be in every paper in your district, probably in Boston too, and maybe even further west. That professor Keller adored you - he's going back to his department and saying Andrea Wyatt cares about conservation. And I think that reporter from the Cape is in love." 

Andy laughed. "Five years ago he would have been jailbait." 

"Well, a good sex scandal always helps." 

"Indeed." Andy turned and smiled at him. "Thanks for coming." 

"You didn't need me." 

"I needed the support. And someone to come up with subtle signals in case I started talking about Social Security." 

"The subtle signals were for legalese. If you had talked about Social Security I would have tackled you to the sand." 

"Fair enough." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

He called Josh and Donna that night from Andrea's couch while she was reading her email from DC. Donna answered and immediately wanted to hear all about the event. 

"It went great, but I haven't talked to you in three weeks. How are you?" He leaned back against the couch cushions, propping his socked feet on the coffee table. 

"Massive!" she replied. "I've gained eight more pounds since New Year's. This child is going to be a linebacker." 

"You were too skinny to start with. It needs room to grow." 

"You've been talking to Andy," she accused. "That's what she said last week." 

"She's smart," he retorted. "Given any more thought to my suggestion?" 

"Sam, I don't care how big a crush you have," Donna sighed into the phone. "I am not naming my child after Diane Sawyer." 

"It's a thought." 

"Yeah." She paused. "Hang on, Josh wants to talk." 

There was a staticky pause, then - "Hey, buddy." 

"Hey." Sam moved the phone to his other ear. "Andy did great." 

"Of course she did. She's freakish." 

"I'm telling her you said that." 

"Hey, I'm not the one sleeping on her couch," Josh pointed out. 

"Yeah, I thought about getting a temporary place up here - even a regular motel room, something - but would you believe Robin actually thought that was worse than me staying at Andrea's?" 

"She doesn't want anything tying you there," Josh said. 

"I guess." Sam twisted around and saw Andy closing her laptop. "I'm going to go and - strategize, or something. Kiss Donna for me." 

"I will. Tell Andy we're thinking of her." 

"Yeah." A moment before Sam hung up, Josh hurriedly called his name. "Yeah?" 

"I almost forgot," Josh said. "Donna says to tell you she saw Ainsley today." 

Sam paused. "Really." 

"Yup." 

"She still with Judiciary?" 

"Yeah," Josh confirmed. "She mentioned it had been a while since you two had emailed." 

"It has," Sam said. 

"Well, she said to tell you hello and that she'll be in touch when you move down." 

"Okay," Sam said, glancing over his shoulder at Andy waiting for him to finish the call. "Okay." 


	3. Epiphany 3

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

“Donna and I drove past the building the other day. It looks pretty good from the outside - it’s an old building, you know, just your style.” 

Sam shifted the cell phone to his other ear. “Sounds good. I’ll be in DC on Saturday morning, and I’m staying until Monday so I can meet with the agent.” 

“We really wish you’d stay with us,” Josh said sincerely. 

“You know I couldn’t do that. You’re both so busy, and Donna needs rest, she doesn’t need me underfoot.” 

“She loves having you underfoot.” 

Sam grinned to himself. “I don’t doubt that. But I just wouldn’t feel right about it. Anyway, the people at the hotel are getting to recognize me.” 

“Speaking of which - C.J.’s coming up next week.” 

Sam’s eyes widened. “I thought she was going to save up vacation time for after the baby.” 

“Apparently she has enough time stored up that she can take a weekend now and still have two weeks for later. She decided we could use some help.” 

“I‘ve been saying that for years.” 

“Hilarious.” Sam could practically hear Josh rolling his eyes. “It seems we need female help. She’s coming up so she and Andy can take Donna shopping for baby things.” 

Sam was torn between two questions and decided to slip them both in at once. Checking compulsively over his shoulder, he asked, “Since when do C.J. and Andy spend that much time together? And if she’s buying baby things, does that mean you caved and found out the sex?” 

“They’re getting everything yellow,” Josh said smugly. “And C.J. and Andy both wanted to help out Donna.” He paused on the other end and asked, “How did she do at the panel?” 

“She was great,” Sam replied enthusiastically. “Haven’t you talked to Toby?” 

“Not since he got back down,” Josh replied. “Barker didn’t give her too much trouble?” 

“She steamrolled Barker,” Sam said cheerfully. “Somebody asked about foreign policy and he was toast.” 

“Toby came back to get ready for the dinner?” 

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “We’re only here until tomorrow morning, and then she needs to get back in time for the Oversight hearing.” He sighed. “And I have to be in court on Tuesday.” 

“This two schedules thing is going to kill you, man.” 

“Well, it’s only another week.” 

“You move on the first?” 

“The second. I’m going to meet with Toby and Andy nights that week, so I have time to unpack.” He stretched, letting the movement distort his voice. “My apartment has been packed up for a week now. I trip over a box every time I try to leave a room.” 

The porch door creaked behind him. He turned around and smiled at Andy, who was holding out a cup of coffee. He mouthed ‘Josh’ as he took it from her. She nodded and waved. “Hey, Josh,” he said. “Andy says hi.” 

“You have to go?” 

Sam glanced at his watch. “Yeah, she’s doing a thing at Salem College in a bit.” 

“Say hi to the witches.” 

“Actually I was hoping to make it to the House of Seven Gables.” 

“Nerd.” 

“Yeah, that’s the kind of maturity I want to hear from a man about to be a father.” By the time he hung up Andy was laughing at him. “Truly horrifying thought,” he said. 

“Well, the poor thing will have Donna at least.” 

“He is very excited,” Sam said, turning mildly serious as he sipped his coffee. 

“I know,” she replied, sitting down on a chair next to his. “When I’m back in town next week, C.J.’s coming up and we’re taking Donna shopping.” 

“He said.” 

“Yeah. He would only let us take her if we promised to steer her toward completely gender-neutral items. He’s convinced it’s a boy and that the little thing’s going to be traumatized by coming home to a frilly nursery.” 

“Well, between you and C.J. I’m sure you’ll be able to spot gender-neutral.” Too late he realized what he’d said and nearly spit coffee back into his cup. “I mean -” 

Fortunately Andy was laughing, although she did smack his leg. “I’m sure there was something - slightly less inappropriate hidden in that comment.” 

“I only meant you’re both so - aware.” 

“Quit, Sam,” she said, still chuckling. 

“Have I mentioned, that time you made me dinner two weeks ago - that was really good.” 

She shook her head and set down her cup on the floor of the porch. “Definitely time to quit, there.” 

“So, you claim to be an advocate for women’s rights in this country, yet you support the oppression of women in Middle Eastern nations, is that right?” 

Seamlessly Andy threw back her hair and said, “I don’t support the oppression of women anywhere. It is unfortunately true that women in some cultures are not as free or as respected as women in the United States, and I don’t believe that we can allow such treatment to continue with a clear conscience. I also don’t believe that going to war with these nations - or imposing heavier trade sanctions, which would put many women and children at risk for starvation - is the way to effect change. I think our best course of action lies through diplomatic channels.” 

Sam opened his mouth, but before he could speak she continued, “Of course there is no time to waste, and diplomatic means have failed in the past. That’s why the committee on which I currently sit in the House is exploring ways of offering incentives to nations who aggressively reduce violence against women.” She stopped and looked at him, waiting expectantly. 

His mouth was open for a few seconds before he finally said, “Good.” 

“Just good?” 

“Great. Lovely. Salem will love you.” 

“In the 1690s, Salem would have burned me.” 

“They do say red hair is the mark of the devil.” 

“Seriously, Sam?” 

“Seriously, you sound great.” He reached out a little awkwardly and patted her shoulder. “You’re ready. Don’t wear a jacket.” 

It took her a moment to catch up with that. “I hire you to tell me what to say, and you say don’t wear a jacket?” 

“It’s the afternoon, and it’s mostly college girls.” He caught her eye and immediately amended, “Women. Wear a sweater or something.” 

“You think?” 

“You’re there to chat up the College Democrats, not to have a formal debate.” 

“Okay,” she shrugged. An evil grin came over her face. “Does that apply to you, too?” 

His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Considering I’m just there to hold up the wall - sure.” 

“Did you bring the black sweater?” she asked, still giving him a fairly alarming look. 

“Are you suggesting,” he asked in mock horror, “using your speechwriter’s body to win votes from college women?” 

“Oh, the ego!” Andy laughed. “How do you know I don’t just think you look stupid in a suit?” 

“Optimism.” 

“Just try not to actually sleep with any of them, okay?” 

He shuddered. “Not something I think you have to worry about. Eighteen-year-olds haven’t been my style since I made it over twenty-four or so.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear. So conservation, education funding . . .” 

“Title IX . . .” 

“Title IX . . . local economy, young voters and GOTV campaigns . . .” 

“And if you can work in right-to-choice without ever using the word ‘abortion,’ Ben and Jerry’s is on me,” he concluded. 

“Insufficient access to family planning leads to health problems for women.” 

“Family planning sounds a little Sunday school.” 

“Pre-Cana.” 

He frowned into his coffee cup. “Huh?” 

“They don’t tend to teach you about family planning at Sunday school. They save that for the pre-Cana classes.” At his completely blank look she added, “Before you can get married in the Church.” 

“How would you know?” 

Andy grinned. “Oh, we had them.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“Father Corcoran modified the usual spiel, out of respect for Toby, but we still had to go through the basic drill.” 

“You couldn’t have been married in church though, could you?” 

“No,” Andy said, shaking her head firmly. “But our priest co-officiated at the ceremony. He was a family friend.” 

“I’m picturing Toby being half-married by a Catholic priest.” 

“Hey, I was half-married by a rabbi,” Andy pointed out. “My brother got blow-by-blow commentary from Toby’s aunts. He asked me afterward if ‘shiksa’ was my Hebrew name.” 

Sam laughed so hard he nearly choked. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

On February 13th Sam was sitting on a couch in Andrea’s office in the Rayburn building, hashing out the details of an address at an upcoming town hall meeting while his mind wandered to the state of his still disorganized apartment. He’d been living there for almost two weeks, but had been spending more time than expected either with Toby or with the rest of Andy’s current staff. 

When the phone rang at eight in the evening, long past the normal time for a constituent call, he assumed it must be Toby calling with the latest informal polling results from Massachusetts Democrats. Andy answered the phone, still trying to read a bill draft in her hands. “Hello?” she asked distractedly. 

She didn’t speak again for a few seconds, and when Sam looked up questioningly he saw that her face had gone very pale. “Andy?” he asked. 

She shook her head and asked into the phone, “Have they said anything? It’s not - it wasn’t that much longer, right?” There was another pause, during which a sinking feeling began in Sam’s stomach. Suddenly Andy’s whole posture relaxed - not entirely, but some. She sounded much better when she asked, “So it should be a couple more hours? Well, as long as you’re there, where they can keep an eye on her - sure. Sure.” She glanced over at Sam. “Yeah, he’s here, do you want to - okay. No, it’s nothing important. We’ll be right over. Okay. Hang in there.” Her voice dropped. “Tell her we love her, okay?” 

By the time she hung up the phone Sam was on his feet, reading glasses dangling from one hand. “What?” he asked anxiously. 

Andy took a deep breath and stood up from her desk. “Donna went into labor.” 

“It’s two months early,” he said, an edge of panic creeping into his voice. 

“She’s okay,” Andy said quickly. “That was Josh on the phone. They booted him into the hallway while they exam her, so I think he’s calling everyone he knows, but - he says they told him she’s fine.” 

“You sounded pretty worried,” he said, not reassured. 

“He said there was something - a little bleeding - but the doctors aren’t concerned,” she added hastily as Sam began to pale further. “He says it’s going pretty fast, it should only be another couple hours. I - I told him we’d come. Both their mothers were coming closer to the due date, but he’s alone there right now . . .” 

“Let’s go,” Sam said, already looking around for his coat. 

By the time they arrived at Georgetown, Toby was waiting for them outside the emergency entrance. “Thought I’d try to catch you,” he explained, giving Andy a distracted kiss on the cheek. “Josh called me right after he talked to you - he’s in with her now.” 

“How’s it going?” Sam asked as they walked inside. 

“Everything seems to have calmed down,” Toby said. He walked between them, steering them both with a hand on Sam’s elbow and one on Andrea’s back. “Josh went in to sit with her about ten minutes ago. They’re just waiting now.” 

“Will they let us go up?” Andy asked. 

“There’s a waiting room with a TV and everything. We can sit there with the other nervous grandparents.” Both Sam and Andy were too excited to hit him. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam was swishing the wet sugar around at the bottom of his fourth cup of coffee when Toby returned from the payphone. “Mrs. Lyman is, as expected, still awake. We had a lovely conversation about the Law & Order marathon.” 

Sam glanced sideways at the TV. “It’s the one where the violinist gets murdered.” 

“So she says.” 

“Andy’s asleep.” 

A near-smile twitched at one corner of Toby’s mouth. “Well, running the country into the ground is hard work.” His ex-wife was sleeping across three of the only four remaining chairs. Sam looked reflexively away, an inexplicable blush coloring his cheeks, as Toby gently lifted her shoulders and prodded her into a sitting position. “Come on, And,” he said softly. “Those chairs cannot be clean, anyway.” 

She smacked at him sleepily. “There’s another free chair, you know.” 

“It doesn’t have a view of the TV.” Toby sat in the now-free seat and let her head settle back onto his lap. “So I’m left with you if I want to see how this one ends.” The careful touch of his hands on her hair belied his words. 

“Hey!” 

Andy sat bolt upright and they all turned to look at the waiting room doorway, where a gleeful Josh stood with the little sterilized hat still covering his hair. “Is she done?” Sam asked, instinctively getting to his feet. 

Josh just beamed. “Congresswoman, Donna says you’d better win this election, because if Andrea turns out to be an unlucky name we’re in trouble.” 

“A girl?” Andy asked, standing up as well. 

“Yup,” Josh replied, rocking back and forth on his feet. 

“And you named her Andrea?” Toby asked, the first one to have caught on entirely. 

“Donna picked it,” the new father confirmed. “She says to tell you that she hopes the baby will have as kind a mentor as she’s had in the past few months.” Josh sounded a little uncomfortable repeating the sentiment, but he smiled as he said, “Plus she wanted to name her after a politician, and the other female ones all had really unfortunate names.” Joking aside, Andy looked like she might cry. Sam rubbed a hand up and down her back as they both hugged Josh and offered congratulations. 

When they stepped out of the way, Toby, who had been standing back, came to Josh’s side and clasped his hand tightly. He murmured something that Sam couldn’t catch, but which definitely ended with the words, “my friend.” Josh was beginning to look a little teary-eyed, and Toby cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you go call your mother. She’s eagerly awaiting news.” 

“Yeah,” Josh said, stepping back. Then he glanced at his watch and held his wrist up for them to see. “Hey, look at that. One-thirty. She made it just in time for Valentine’s Day.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

By the next day Donna was allowed visitors other than Josh, so after getting some sleep Sam returned to the hospital. He didn’t go straight to her room, but stopped by the little viewing window in the nursery. The tiny crib with the pink card reading ‘Lyman’ was near the front, and his first view of his goddaughter was a good one. She was asleep with one fist in her mouth, legs curled up to her body. He was still standing there, watching her chest rise and fall, when Toby came up beside him. 

“She’s going to be blonde,” Toby observed without any other greeting. “Her little fuzz is lighter than most babies’.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said softly. 

Toby patted his arm. “I talked to Josh this morning. He says if we come to the room while Donna’s awake, they’ll bring the baby in and let us hold her.” 

“Really?” Sam replied, his whole face lighting up. He looked back in at the window. “They shouldn’t wake her, though.” 

“Donna?” 

“No. Well, her either. But I meant - Andrea.” *That* felt a little strange. 

“She’s ten hours old, Sam. You can hold her without waking her up.” 

Donna was awake when they got to the room. Josh was sitting tentatively on the side of her bed, and her head was leaning on his shoulder. “Hey,” Sam whispered as they walked in. 

“You don’t have to whisper,” Donna said, pushing herself up to a full sitting position. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Sam crossed the room and kissed her gently. “You look great. Do you feel okay?” 

“I feel pretty good,” she replied. 

“So it’s true that seeing the baby makes you forget the pain?” 

“No,” she replied, completely deadpan. “But you know what does?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Drugs.” She smiled, and he reached out and touched her face. 

“Anyway, congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” She looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Toby.” 

“Hi.” Toby shuffled over to the bed, but bent over without hesitation and kissed her cheek. “Congratulations. We saw her in the nursery; she’s perfect.” 

Josh stood up and took Toby’s arm. “Come on, if we go ask the nurse she’ll bring her out.” 

When they had left the room together Sam sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs. “Everything’s really fine?” he asked, guessing that he might get a slightly different answer without Josh there. 

Donna nodded. “I’m really tired, but everything’s okay. And the baby - she’s small, but they say she’s fine. Being early didn’t hurt her.” 

“Have you gotten to spend much time with her?” 

“I had her in my lap for a while, after they first got us both cleaned up, but we both fell asleep,” she replied, smiling. 

“Well, I’m sure you both earned it.” 

She closed her eyes, and her lip trembled just a little. “She’s so cute, Sam.” 

“Of course she is.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “She’s beautiful. She had to be.” 

Footsteps alerted them to the men’s return; Josh holding a blanketed bundle as though he were carrying a bomb. Sam would have laughed if he hadn’t looked so adorable. “Here we are,” he announced. 

He placed the baby in Donna’s arms, murmuring, “Here we are, Mom,” and Sam and Toby both leaned over to see her. Both of them actually said “awwwww,” exactly at the same time. When Sam looked up at his former boss, he was met with a vicious glare. “If you ever tell anyone . . .” Toby began. 

“Right.” Sam reached hesitantly into the little bundle and stroked the back of a hand, which moved as soon as he touched it. “She moved,” he said in awe. 

“They’ll do that,” Josh laughed, but his tone was tinged with reverence. “She’s a kicker, look at those little feet go.” 

“Good for soccer,” Sam said. 

“Or ballet,” Donna replied. She looked up and met Toby’s eyes, and Toby turned to Sam. “You take her first,” he said. 

Sam held out his arms and the baby was delicately transferred, with some help from Josh. She weighed less than he expected and fit easily into the crook of one arm. “Hi, little Andrea,” he said. He looked up at Josh and Donna. “We’re going to have to do something about that, you know. I mean it’s sweet, but . . .” 

“We’re just never calling Andy by her full name again,” Josh said. “Then the baby can be Andrea.” 

“Okay,” Sam said, laughing. At that point the baby began to open her eyes. “Oh, she’s awake,” he whispered excitedly. He poked his finger gently into a little fist, watching the fingers react. “She can’t grab yet, but she’s trying,” he said, fascinated. “And look, her eyes are blue.” 

“Most babies have blue eyes to start,” Donna said softly, watching him with her child. 

“But hers are really blue,” Sam said. 

“Well, so are Donna’s.” 

The new, slightly husky voice came from the doorway. Toby was the first to look up and say, “Andy.” 

“Hey.” She came slowly over to the bed, asking, “Is it okay if I come in?” 

“Yeah,” Donna said, smiling at her newest visitor. 

Andy went to Donna first, giving her a careful hug and telling her, “Congratulations. You must feel like you’ve been run over.” 

Donna laughed. “Let’s say I’ll never complain about the Abs of Steel video again.” 

“Andy.” Sam got cautiously to his feet and held the baby out to her. “Here you go.” 

Andy’s entire face changed as she took the baby into her arms, holding her not in the usual way but on both forearms, so that the baby’s face was looking into hers. Unlike Sam, she looked completely comfortable. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said quietly. She ran her fingertips over the baby’s soft head. “The blonde fuzz is adorable. Oh, she’s looking at me.” 

“She’s very smart,” Toby put in, coming around to Andy’s side and looking over her shoulder. “Donna clearly has strong genes.” 

Andy chuckled softly and rocked her arms a little. “She has Josh’s chin. Look at that.” 

“Yeah, she yawns like him, too,” Toby said. “Like a baby dinosaur.” 

“Hey.” 

“It speaks,” Toby teased, looking up at the baby’s father. A tiny whimper brought his attention back to the bundle in Andy’s arms, and he reached out and stroked her cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers. “Hello, little girl,” he said. “I’ll tell you a secret; your daddy’s actually pretty great. So you got lucky with both parents.” He glanced up at his ex-wife. “By the way, you never get to be Andrea again. Just Andy.” 

She smiled. “I can deal with that.” 

“Yeah.” Toby straightened the blankets around the baby. “Aunt Andy’s okay, too, you know. And, well - we don’t need to talk about Uncle Sam right now.” He slipped a friendly arm around Andy’s waist, and Sam and Josh exchanged smiles. 


	4. Epiphany 4

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

"Sam." 

The voice behind him was familiar, as was the accent that turned his name into two syllables. He schooled his face into a neutral expression with a faint smile before he turned around. "Ainsley." 

She was standing in the doorway to a hearing room, one hand still propping the heavy wooden door partially open. With a quick glance into the room, she let it close all the way and took one or two tentative steps toward him. "Hey." 

"Hey." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "How are \- you look great." She was wearing a very well-tailored suit, which was usual for her, except that she seemed to have moved to a less severe cut. Her thick blonde hair was still long, but now stopped around her shoulder blades instead of hanging all the way to her waist, and it was layered softly in the front. The overall impression was a bit more relaxed, and it suited her well. 

She half smiled and half laughed, coming closer. "Thanks. You too. It's been a while." 

"Since we've actually seen each other? In person - two years?" 

"Give or take, I guess," she agreed. "How long have you been back?" 

"I moved down three weeks ago," he replied. He coughed nervously. "I, uh - I should have called you." 

She shook her head. "I don't expect to be the first thing on your list upon moving to a new city and starting a new job." 

"Not exactly a new city." 

"No, I guess not." Her smile was a bit rueful. "I was going to call you, anyway. Whenever I got a hold of Donna and got your number from her. But I haven't seen her around lately - she had been working out of Andrea Wyatt's office . . ." 

"Yeah," Sam said, relieved to have something to say. "I'm surprised you haven't heard. Donna had the baby early - last week." 

"Oh!" One hand came up to her mouth. "Is everything okay?" 

"Fine," he said, smiling genuinely now. "She had a little girl. She's beautiful. Her name is Andrea Helen." 

"That's pretty," Ainsley said. "I'll have to call her - do you think that would be okay?" 

"She'd love it," Sam replied, nodding. "She'll invite you over. That child has already been held by half the DC metro area." 

Ainsley laughed gently, and they were left looking at each other for an uncertain, silent moment. She took another step toward him, biting her lip, and after a second he moved toward her as well. They embraced decorously, fully aware that they were standing in the hallway of a Senate office building, but he rubbed her back briefly and said, "I have missed you," quietly near her ear. 

"I missed you, too," she said honestly as she pulled back. "I - we shouldn't have lost touch." 

"Yeah." He sighed a little, some of the nervousness having dissipated. "Now that I'm back in town . . ." He paused and started over. "I guess I've kind of avoided talking too much to people who remember - you know, people who were in the administration. I didn't want to - I don't know." He also probably shouldn't have been telling her this in a public hallway of the Russell building, and had no idea why he was doing it, but her face was sympathetic. There was something else, of course - he didn't want to talk to Robin about this, and for obvious reasons couldn't discuss it with Josh or Toby or even Andy, really. 

"It's fine, Sam," she said, reaching out and touching his elbow for a second. "Look, if you - why don't we have lunch, or dinner, or something, sometime. Catch up." 

He thought for a quick moment. "Are you busy tonight?" 

She rolled her eyes. "I shouldn't be admitting this, but no." 

Sam laughed. "I'm supposed to be at Josh and Donna's at seven, just for a short visit. If you want - why don't we catch dinner early, and you can come with me and meet the baby?" 

She frowned slightly. "I don't know, I probably shouldn't just drop in on them . . ." 

Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed before she could stop him. "I know you, and I know you won't be happy unless - Hey, Donna. No, I'm fine. I'm with Ainsley - yeah, we just ran into each other in the hallway. Would it be all right with you - uh-huh - that's what I thought you'd say. Sure. We'll see you at seven." He snapped the phone shut. "See, she suggested I bring you." 

Ainsley shook her head. "I really have missed you, you know." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So, Andrea Wyatt?" 

"Donna didn't tell you I was going to be working for her?" 

"No, she did," Ainsley said, swirling the straw in her iced tea. "I'm just curious." 

"Well, you know about her and Toby, of course." 

Ainsley's eyes narrowed slightly. "I knew they had been married, obviously. Is there something else?" 

"No!" he said quickly. "God, the last thing we need is a scandal." 

"No kidding," she agreed. 

"So, anyway, Toby came up and asked me to work for Andrea's campaign . . ." 

"And that was it?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have bribed Senator Hardigan to retire mid-term. Andrea could have run in the substitute election. We could have dragged you down here three years ago." 

His mouth opened and he held his breath for a second, realizing what she had inadvertently - perhaps - admitted. Blinking, he decided to laugh it off. "Missed me that much, did you?" 

She shrugged. "With you gone I had no one left worth arguing with. I've gotten rusty." 

"I doubt that." Breathing a tiny sigh of relief at awkwardness avoided, he picked up his water glass. "So - I haven't asked how you like Judiciary." 

"I like it," she said. "It's only been a year, of course. But it's nice \- it's a much . . . faster pace than the White House." Off his look she added, "Yeah, that sounds ridiculous. What I mean is - I research something, or I draft something, and it's on the committee floor in a day, an hour, five minutes. What I did at the White House tended to be a much more drawn-out process. There's some of that at Judiciary, too, of course, but there's also some real action." 

"No, I know what you mean," he conceded. "That's a pretty big part of the reason I came down to work for Andy - Congresswoman Wyatt." Their eyes met and he snorted. "I don't know why I just corrected myself. I mean, it's you, not \- anyway. Toby pointed out, when we spoke, that on Andrea's staff - if she were elected - I would have much more access, be more able to get legislation in." 

"Yeah, that sounds great for you." She twirled a fork between her fingers. "But something about New York must have agreed with you. You don't look like you've been pining." 

He laughed. "No, I've been doing pretty well. I liked my work up there \- I really did feel like I was doing something worthwhile." 

"And then . . . you got tired of doing worthwhile things, and decided to come back here?" 

"I think Andrea's worthwhile." 

Her eyebrows lifted in interest. "Really." 

"Don't give me that. You know what I mean." 

"I do," she admitted. "Anyway, Donna told me you were seeing someone in New York, and the Sam Seaborn I remember wouldn't be two-timing his woman." 

He snorted rather louder than before. "She'd beat you to death with her briefcase if she heard you call her my woman." 

"She sounds lovely." 

He allowed his face to soften a little. "She is, though. She's - anyway." He shook himself inwardly. "What about you?" 

"Ha." She paused as the waitress delivered their food. "I have single-handedly dated every jerk, political parasite, upwardly-mobile Hill shrimp, and subhuman plankton in Washington. Well, except the gay ones. No - probably some of those, too." 

"You sure you didn't miss any?" he asked, chuckling at the look on her face. 

"Well," she drawled, biting an olive off the end of her fork, "there may be one hiding in a dark corner of a happy hour in Dupont Circle, but I'm sure I'll find him someday." 

"Reach for the stars." 

"A girl has to have a goal." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Ainsley still looked a little nervous standing on Josh and Donna's front step, but she hugged Donna and offered truly heartfelt congratulations. She had brought a small package, which turned out to be a tiny, fuzzy hat and matching mittens about the size of an adult's thumb. Donna pressed a hand to her chest when she saw them. "Oh, Ainsley, they're so cute. Thank you. They're adorable. I didn't know they made mittens small enough." She lifted one out and held it up in wonder. "The only ones I've seen would fall right off her little hands." 

"I thought - since it's still so cold, and all," Ainsley said, clearly pleased. "They're actually handmade by a woman I know. The mittens are extra thick, since they're so small - so she can't accidentally swallow one." 

"Oh, clever," Donna said, delighted. A faint cry drew her attention to the baby monitor on the table, and she stood up, laying the gift box on the coffee table. "Sounds like she knows she has visitors. I'll be right back." 

"She looks good," Ainsley said quietly when Donna had left the room. Then she glanced sideways at the baby monitor. "Do those things work both ways?" 

"No," Sam laughed. "You're right, anyway - she looks great. She's dropping weight at a rate that would make any other woman want to strangle her, and she's got some color back." 

They heard another little cry, this one in real life and not from the monitor. Donna emerged into the living room with a sleeper-clad Andrea over her shoulder and seated herself on the couch. The baby seemed bigger already since Sam had seen her in the hospital, and her little face was less red and scrunched. One fist was resting on Donna's shoulder, and a foot was wriggling back and forth. Both the visitors were instantly spellbound. 

"She's so little," Ainsley said in awe. 

"She was four pounds," Donna said, "but now she's already almost five." 

"After a week?" Ainsley looked impressed and reached out to stroke the small hand. "She must be a healthy eater." 

"Oh, yes," Donna said dryly. "Very." She carefully lifted the baby off her shoulder and held her out to Ainsley. "Here you go." 

Ainsley painstakingly slipped her hands under the baby's head and back, asking, "Will she come to me?" 

"She's been great with people so far," Donna said. "Just pretend you're a Democrat. We haven't tried her with your kind before." 

Ainsley laughed, but her attention was on the child in her arms. "Well, we won't provoke her then. Hi, Andrea. Hello, honey." The little girl gave a tiny cough and a whimper, and then turned her face into Ainsley's elbow. Her fingers dug into Ainsley's sleeve and one leg curled up. "Hey, I guess I'm okay," Ainsley said, rocking her arms a little. 

Sam grinned and reached over to stroke the baby's cheek. "She looks great. I've never seen anything so priceless." 

"Oh, look at those eyes," Ainsley murmured. "You're going to be so pretty, aren't you, sweetheart." 

"She already is pretty," Sam said. "She's the most beautiful child I've ever seen." 

"Would you be saying that if you weren't the godfather?" Donna joked. 

"You're the godfather?" Ainsley asked. 

"They made me an offer I couldn't refuse." 

Ainsley rolled her eyes. "Who's the godmother?" 

"C.J.," Donna replied. "Also Josh's cousin Sylvia, and Toby's the other godfather." 

They all heard the front door slam shut, and Josh called, "I'm late. I suck!" 

"Hey, there's a baby in the room," Sam called back good-naturedly. 

"Well, where'd that come from?" Josh asked, his head coming into the living room before the rest of him. "Hi, Ainsley." 

"Hey," she said, looking up from the baby. 

Josh leaned over her and brushed a hand over Andrea's head before kissing her gently. "Hi, baby." He kissed Donna next and settled beside her on the couch. "I got a little tied up with a tutorial." 

"Do you want your daughter?" Ainsley asked lightly. 

Josh laughed. "I'm good for now." 

"Then I'll hand her over to Brando, here." She carefully transferred the baby to Sam's lap. 

He cradled Andrea against his chest, watching in delight as she rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I think I could just watch her for days," he said. 

"That's basically what we've been doing," Josh said softly. "I mean, we take breaks for eating and hygiene purposes, but otherwise . . ." 

"You hate being back at work, don't you?" Sam asked. 

Josh shrugged. "I don't - I mean, I love teaching, actually. But I do hate having to be away from her. It was seriously tempting to take a couple weeks off, stay home and hold her all day. I just couldn't do that to my students with a clear conscience." 

"Ah, maturity." 

"Don't jump to conclusions," Donna said. Her husband nudged her shoulder with his, and she nudged back. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"I heard you had dinner last night with a Republican lawyer from Judiciary." 

Andy's tone was deliberately over-the-top gossipy. Sam made an equally elaborate show of rolling his eyes and waved his pen at her. "I had a non-date dinner with Ainsley Hayes. You know she's an old friend." 

"Oh, I know," Andy said. "I've heard all the stories." 

"From Toby?" 

"And Donna. And Josh. And, um, Ginger. Also that guy who used to work for Toby . . ." 

"Jesus, there weren't that many stories." 

"Some of them were repeated." Andy cleared her throat and dropped into the chair beside his. "Robin coming down this weekend?" 

He fixed her with a stern gaze. "Yes. She is. Josh and Donna are coming over to my apartment for dinner." 

"You're cooking?" 

"Don't give me that shocked look. I have made you breakfast on numerous occasions." 

"And the pancakes were excellent," Andy said, "but I hope you're not making those for dinner." 

"Eggplant parmigiana." 

She cracked up. "I'm sorry, you sounded so self-righteous when you said that." 

He ignored her. "I wanted Robin to meet them, and see the baby, but I felt bad dropping in on them all the time. You know, it can't be easy having a brand-new baby and keeping the house acceptable for visitors all the time." 

"You're going to make someone a wonderful wife," Andy said. "Is Robin ready to meet the family?" 

"Come to think of it," he said, "I think you're right. I believe meeting Josh and Donna and, god forbid, the rest of you, will probably be scarier than meeting my actual family." 

"When Toby and I started dating?" Andy began. 

"Yeah?" 

"I was much more afraid of meeting C.J. and Aaron than meeting his family." She saw his frown. "Forgot you didn't know Aaron. He was a college friend of Toby's; they were inseparable back in his New York days. Aaron was before C.J., before - anyone." 

"I've never heard Toby mention him." 

Andy exhaled heavily. "He doesn't talk about him, really. He died. Aaron, I mean. Obviously. He died the year after we were married." 

"Of what?" 

"Heart attack." She shook herself visibly. "Anyway. I remember being a little nervous about the family, but terrified of meeting his friends. I mean, he didn't spend huge amounts of time with his family, but I knew if Aaron and C.J. hated me I'd be history." 

"I don't think Robin's nervous," he said quietly. 

"Maybe she's just not telling you." 

"No." He shook his head vigorously. "I honestly don't think she gives a damn whether Josh and Donna like her or not." 

"Or the rest of us?" 

"Or the rest of you. Although she'd die if you were wearing a better suit than hers the first time she met you." 

Andy laughed. "Seriously." 

"Seriously. She's - I guess you might have picked up that she has a fairly fixed opinion of you." 

"I got that," Andy chuckled. "I get the feeling she thinks I'm trying to steal her man." 

"She does think that," he said, not laughing anymore, "and I'm sorry. I've gone out of my way not to give her the impression . . ." 

"That's probably your problem right there," Andy pointed out. "Wouldn't you get suspicious if she was being a little too careful to make you think some guy at work was just a friend?" 

"You know?" Sam said, frowning deeply. "No. I wouldn't. That's probably why so many women have found it so easy to cheat on me." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"This is cute, Sam," Robin said, dropping her overnight bag next to the door. "I'm sorry I haven't made it down before." 

"Hey, I'm just glad you're here now," he said, locking the door behind them. 

"The building is nice." 

"I didn't want one of those cinderblock, tan brick apartment houses with rust dripping down the sides of the building from the window frames." She laughed, and he kissed her. Twice. As she began to reach her arms around him, he pulled back. "I have to rinse the eggplant." 

"Romantic." She picked her bag up again. "Where's the bedroom?" 

"Straight back down the hall," he said, while opening the refrigerator. "Bathroom's back there, too." 

"Will your friends mind if I have dinner with them in my wrinkled clothes from the car?" she called over her shoulder as she left the room. 

"My friends have a month-old baby," he yelled from the kitchen. "I don't think either of them has seen an unwrinkled garment in weeks." 

"They're bringing the baby?" 

"Yeah, I wanted you to meet her." He smiled to himself over a mixing bowl of sauce. "Also I wanted to see her." 

"You're adorable," she said, reappearing in the kitchen. 

"She's adorable," he said. 

Robin leaned against the counter, watching him from behind as he set the sauce aside and began frying eggplant slices. "Have you been in touch with all your old friends yet?" she asked. "You haven't talked about them much." 

"Well, I see Toby all the time," he answered, slightly distracted by the frying. "Josh and Donna when I can, but I don't want to wear them out, obviously. My old boss lives out in Virginia now; I haven't managed to see him yet. I did run into an old friend a few weeks ago, so we were able to do some catching up. And, of course, I'll see C.J. Cregg when they baptize Andrea." 

"They're baptizing her?" 

He turned and handed Robin a fried eggplant slice. "Want to try one? Yeah, Donna wanted to have her baptized - more of a ritual thing than anything else, and Donna's family would want it. You know." 

She bit into the eggplant. "Oh, wow. I can't believe you've never made this for me before." 

"It's even better with the cheese and sauce." 

"I could eat it just like this." 

"Then eat that one. It's not like I'm going to hack off the part you bit and put it back on the platter." 

His phone rang, and he wiped his hands off on his dishtowel and grabbed for it. "Hello?" 

"I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I know Robin's there. If you want, you can pretend it's not me." 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying not to laugh. "Hi, Andy." 

"I wouldn't have called except I'm desperate. The restaurant where we were supposed to be having the constituent breakfast this weekend? Water main broke. Flooding everywhere. Clearly closed. I know this is Nola's problem and not yours, but she's gone on vacation with her husband and she doesn't have her phone on - which I wouldn't either, I suppose, if someone whisked me off to Hilton Head - and I'm tapped out, do you have any suggestions? Any? At all?" 

"Take a breath, would you?" He glanced over his shoulder at Robin, who was listening unabashedly with a neutral expression on her face. "Have you called Perry's?" 

"Oh, very funny, Sam. My constituents would love the drag queens." 

"Is that Perry's? Okay, never mind." Robin was beginning to shift her weight from side to side. "Look, we have five days. I'll pore through the Zagat's later and think of something. I swear." 

"Sam, I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah." 

"You should go." 

"Donna and Josh will be here in twenty minutes with the baby." 

"Okay. Give Robin my love." 

"You're an evil woman, Andrea Wyatt." He consciously fought the smile that wanted to break out over his face, and silently ridiculed himself for doing that. "Goodbye." 

"Emergency?" Robin asked. 

He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of White Zinfandel. "Want a glass now?" 

"Shouldn't we wait?" 

"Donna can't drink, and Josh is driving." 

"Ah. Sure." 

"Anyway. This weekend is a constituent breakfast for Andrea's district \- Senator Hardigan is coming, and we're hoping he'll give her something that sounds like an endorsement for the primary. And a water main broke in the restaurant where we had the reservations. She didn't say exactly, but I'm guessing they told her they'd be closed all week." 

"So you need to find another place." 

"Yes." He handed her the glass of wine. 

"And there's no one else who could be handling this? I thought you were supposed to be writing speeches and legislative proposals and doing important campaign work." 

"That is what I'm doing," he said, schooling the defensiveness out of his voice. "But her scheduler is apparently in Hilton Head with her husband and no cell phone." 

The doorbell rang, sparing him any further explanation. 

"We're early," Donna fretted as soon as he opened the door. "We overestimated the time it would take to get everything in the car and get her fastened and everything." 

"It's okay," he said, pulling her to him and kissing her forehead. "You guys are always welcome to come early and stay late. Come in, come in." Josh slapped him on the arm with his free hand, and Sam looked down into the carrier dangling from his other hand. "There she is," he crooned in a voice that should probably have embarrassed him. "Oh, the little snowsuit is adorable. I haven't seen that before." 

A fraction of a second late he noticed that Josh and Donna had made eye contact with Robin standing behind him. "Guys, this is Robin. Robin, Josh and Donna. And Andrea." He looked back at Josh while they all exchanged polite greetings. "Can I take her out?" 

"Sure." 

Josh placed the carrier on Sam's couch and Sam carefully unbelted the baby and lifted her out. "Look at you," he said, holding her carefully under her arms. "You've gotten so big." An empty snowsuit leg flapped against him and he grinned. "Not big enough for your clothes, yet, but so big! And this is the hat and mittens from Ainsley? They're very cute." 

"They are," Donna agreed, reaching over to help him get Andrea out of the snowsuit. "I was going to bring the baby in to work later this week, and I thought we'd stop first over on the Senate side so Ainsley could see them on." 

The hat came off last, leaving blonde fuzz sticking up in every direction. Finally free, little hands batted at Sam's chest, and he artfully turned the baby in his arms to show her to Robin. "Here we go," he said softly. 

Robin made no move to take the baby, which probably had something to do with her not knowing the parents. But she reached out and took a hand between her thumb and forefinger and said, "Hello there." She looked up at Donna and glanced toward Josh. "She's gorgeous." 

"Thank you," they both said, not quite together. 

Donna was eager to like Robin, although Josh was studying her a bit more carefully. She had opened by admiring their child, and she asked all the right questions about her weight and sleeping habits, which went a long way toward endearing her to the couple. Dinner conversation started out a bit strained, as Josh, Sam and Donna tried to avoid discussing too much politics, too much Bartlet, too much Andrea, or too much Andy Wyatt, variously wanting not to bore or exclude Robin. Sam's cooking skills gave them ample topic for discussion, however, and Josh found himself telling stories of their early years on the Hill. 

They had Robin laughing quickly enough, which relieved Sam even though most of the humor was at his expense. They were all bent in half by the time Josh got through telling about how Sam had tried to cook for a girlfriend and nearly set his entire stovetop on fire, and had called Josh wanting to borrow his apartment for the evening. "Of course, Sam was just a baby then. He was - what? barely twenty-five?" 

Sam grinned. "You realize that when I was a 'baby' of twenty-five, the mother of your child was nineteen, right?" 

"Stop, evil man," Josh said, still laughing. 

By the time they had finished dinner and gathered around the coffee table, Robin had relaxed into Josh and Donna's company and was holding the baby for the first time on her lap. "She's great for conversation," she noted, watching small fingers try to close around her thumb. "You'd never run out of things to talk about. It's exciting every time she moves her little toes." 

"A lot of children in your family?" Josh asked, with the smile of a proud father. 

"My sister has three, and one of my brothers has two," Robin replied. "The youngest is three, so she's a little bit past this stage. Still cute, though." 

"None of your own, or anything," Donna asked, trying to be delicate. 

"No," Robin replied lightly. "I haven't really - stopped long enough. Not that I've met a lot of men I wanted to have children with, anyway. I have to say, I respect the way you've been able to take this in stride and go back to school and everything." That felt to Sam like something of a backhanded compliment, but he was at least relieved Robin hadn't started accusing Josh of forcing the baby on his wife. 

Donna smiled, looking at the baby, not at Robin's face. "Well, it's work, of course, but it's not exactly a hardship. And I actually think having her to come home to will make my last semester at school much more pleasant." 

"You're at Georgetown?" Robin asked. 

"Yeah. As long as I carefully avoid Josh, or any professors who know Josh, I'm fine." 

"Plus I teach mostly graduate courses anyway," Josh interjected. "So until she decides to get a Master's, we don't run into each other that often." 

"Some of his students have class with me sometimes, though," Donna said. "One of them was completely horrified this fall when she got into a conversation with me and found out her classmate was having a baby with her professor. I had to explain we hadn't met as student and teacher, and that I would never take a class he was teaching." 

"My students, the ones who have met Donna, don't seem to worry about any of that - weirdness," Josh said. "They all just want to know when I'm bringing the baby in for them to see." 

Robin gave him a small smile and ran a hand gently over Andrea's hair. 


	5. Epiphany 5

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

"I have a proposition for you." 

Sam shifted the phone to his other ear. "Okay." 

"Donna and I want to get out of town this weekend. Take advantage of the Easter break." 

"Okay," Sam repeated. "I don't suppose you want to give me Andrea for the weekend?" 

"No," Josh laughed. "We want you to come with us." 

Sam took the phone away from his ear, looked at it for a second, then brought it back. "You want to go away for a romantic weekend, and you want me to come with you? Either you want a babysitter, or you've got something kinky planned that I don't really want to think about." 

"Who said it was a romantic weekend?" Josh asked. "We're bringing the kid." 

"So?" 

"We're taking her camping." 

"Camping?" Sam repeated in a strangled sort of voice. "The Lymans are going camping? Are you kidding?" 

"No," Josh replied, sounding offended. 

"Camping - outside?" 

"In a state park about an hour and a half north," Josh confirmed. 

"I'm guessing this was Donna's idea?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"And I'm coming because . . . you need someone to fight off the bears?" 

"There are no bears in Maryland," Josh said. A few seconds passed. "Are there?" 

"I don't think so," Sam laughed. "So why am I coming?" 

"Donna says camping is more fun with a lot of people. She's come up with this crazed plan wherein we take all our friends with us into the woods and - I don't know, hike for a couple days and sit around a campfire. Presumably with Andrea strapped to our backs." 

"And you're going along with this?" 

"For the mother of my child? Anything." Sam could hear Josh grinning on the other end. "Plus it's supposed to be nice over the weekend, and it will be pretty cute to see Andrea in the woods." 

"She's two months old," Sam said doubtfully. "Will she even know she's in the woods?" 

"Probably not, but we'll have fun watching her stare at the birds," Josh replied. Sam hadn't asked the question that was foremost in his mind, but Josh answered it anyway. "We'll have the car parked at the campsite, and Donna's already mapped the route from the park to the nearest hospital, just in case. She can sleep in her little carrier just like when she naps at home, and it's too cool still for bugs to be a problem. We just want to get her out of the city." 

"I can understand that," Sam said, leaning back in his chair. "Sure, I'm in. Sounds like fun. Who else is coming?" 

Josh started to snicker. "Would you believe Toby?" he asked. 

Sam snorted before he could stop himself. "No way." 

"Yeah." 

"Toby hates camping. Actually, I've never heard him say that specifically, but he hates being outside. Being outside for three days straight in the woods sounds like it would be a problem for him." 

"You would think," Josh said, "but Donna asked him, and she pulled out the big guns." 

"Huh?" 

"Toby has a definite soft spot for Andrea." Josh paused. "Our Andrea, I mean. Although . . . anyway. Donna pointed out that he could spend the weekend with her. Then he said he'd have to come just to make sure we kept her safe out there." 

"I don't believe it." 

"Believe it. He didn't even back out when we told him we were asking Andy, too." 

"Andy?" Sam echoed. 

"Sure," Josh said easily. "I mean, if anyone needs a break as much as you and Toby, she does." 

"Yeah," Sam said, slowly. 

"It's okay with you that we asked her, right?" Josh asked. "I know you see her at work all the time." 

"No, it's fine," Sam said quickly. "She's - I don't mind seeing her. And she loves camping." 

Josh paused for a moment or two before saying, "Donna says we should ask Ainsley." 

Sam sat quietly for a minute with widened eyes. "Um - she does?" 

Josh sounded almost apologetic. "I don't know if you know this - have you been seeing Ainsley?" 

"I've only seen her once, really, since that time at your house," Sam said. "We've been talking on the phone a little, but . . ." 

"Has she mentioned Donna?" 

"No," Sam said, confused. 

"Well, Donna took the baby in to see her a couple days after we had dinner with you and Robin - remember? Anyway, Ainsley wound up offering to help Donna with her thesis - read the drafts before she turned them in, you know. Donna didn't want me to do it." 

"So she went to Ainsley?" Sam asked. 

"Ainsley offered, I think," Josh answered. "You know, it's not - she wouldn't have gone to you, or Toby, for the same reason she didn't want me to help her. She's a little too close to you, she wouldn't want you to see her work as less than perfect. Ainsley's a little more distant, but friendly enough that Donna trusts her." 

"Ainsley never said anything," Sam said slowly. 

"I don't think she wants to make a big deal out of it. She's just doing it to help Donna, not to - you know, look good." 

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. 

"So - it's okay with you if she comes along? Donna hasn't said anything about it to her yet, so . . ." 

"No, it's fine with me," Sam said. "But I don't know how she and Andy feel about each other." 

"Toby likes Ainsley, and Andy doesn't really know her personally, so she'll take Toby's word. And neither of them tends to worry about party in social situations." 

"No, we trained that out of Ainsley pretty young," Sam joked. "So this sounds \- like something that should be a nightmare, and will probably turn out to be weirdly fun." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"You're going camping?" Robin repeated in complete disbelief. 

"I like camping," Sam said in a tone that bordered on petulance. "I enjoy all outdoor activities. Well, except skydiving, and - bungee-jumping." 

"But - this weekend?" she asked in a tone that was definitely petulant. "I have a vacation too, you know. I had planned on coming down to see you." 

Rather than admit he hadn't thought of that, Sam said, "I didn't think you had any time off." 

"An extra day," she said. 

"Ah." He almost asked her to come along on the trip, but decided that would *definitely* be a nightmare. Robin, Andy, and, God forbid, Ainsley all stuck together for three days could not possibly be a good idea. Anyway, he was fairly sure that Robin was not a camper. "I'm sorry, Robin. Josh and Donna suggested it as a chance for all of us to get out of the city for a while, and I'd be able to spend some time with the baby. The campaign is really speeding up now, and I don't get to see her that often." 

"You don't see me that often, either," Robin pointed out quietly. 

His eyes closed. "I know. And I'm sorry." 

He heard her exhale. "I miss you, you know." 

"I miss you, too." He couldn't understand why the words sounded so flat to his ears. 

"You're the one who left," Robin said. 

"I didn't leave you," he said, feeling horribly as though he'd had this conversation before. "I just left New York." 

"I need someone who's here," Robin whispered. 

His eyes drifted closed again and he felt his jaw clench. "I'm sorry, Rob," he said again. "You know I didn't mean to put distance between us." 

"I know," she said. She cleared her throat. "Look, I just - I need a little time, okay, Sam? I need to - think, some. I'll give you a call in a week or so." 

"Robin," he said helplessly. 

"I'm not saying anything; I just need some time to think about where this is going," she said. "I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean this either. But I'm tired of missing you." 

Andy's advice on long-distance relationships came back to him with a pang. He licked his lips and said, "Okay. Whatever you need. Just - call me, please? When you can?" 

"Sure," she said softly. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The drive to northern Maryland felt longer than it was, mostly because the songs on the radio all made him feel alone and insecure. Ever since his conversation with Robin he had felt a heaviness, a constriction, in his chest that didn't seem to go away even when he slept. Andy hadn't asked, but he could tell she knew something was wrong. Toby seemed to be tiptoeing around him, which was completely bizarre. 

He pulled into the campground and circled until he located the site number Josh had given him. Josh's car was already parked at the site next to it, and Sam left his things in the car and wandered over. 

The smile that broke over his face when he saw little Andrea was his first real one in about three days. She was wrapped from head to foot in fleece and dangling in a baby carrier against Donna's stomach. He kissed Donna and asked, "Can I take her out?" 

"Be my guest," she replied, her eyes probing his face. He sent her a look that he hoped conveyed his message - leave him alone for a while - and lifted the little girl out of the carrier. "Hi, honey," he murmured, resting her on his shoulder. One arm supported her against his body; his free hand stroked over her downy hair and tucked the fleece up around her neck. She was wide awake and one fist got a handful of his shirt while she made contented baby noises. 

"I think she knows you," Donna said gently, shrugging out of the baby backpack. "She's starting to recognize people." 

"She's so smart," he said softly, leaning his cheek carefully against her head. Just holding her had a calming effect on him, but at the same time it made the ache in his chest somewhat worse. He rubbed a hand over the baby's back and asked, "Where's Josh?" 

"He and Andy went off looking for firewood. Well, Andy's looking for it; Josh is mostly along to carry it. Toby just drove out into town - we forgot coffee." 

"Tragedy," Sam agreed. "Toby and Andy came together? I don't see her car." 

"He drove," she confirmed. "Hey, we haven't exactly divided up the campsites yet. We managed to come up with four tents - we're not really supposed to have more than one at a site, but we're hoping no one will notice if we put two on the one furthest from the road. But we didn't know - I mean, there isn't really a way to do this that isn't awkward." 

"I had thought of that, briefly," Sam said, smiling a little as Andrea batted his chin. "I'll go anywhere you want me, but keep in mind Toby kicks." 

The sound of a car crunching on gravel made them all turn around, as a dark car pulled into the site on the other side of Sam's. Ainsley stepped out and waved, looking exactly as awkward as Sam was beginning to feel. 

"Hey," Donna called, probably aware of the strangeness. She waved Ainsley over with the plastic tent pole in her hand. 

"Hey," Ainsley called back as she made her way across the middle camp site and through the thin strip of trees that divided them. "Hey, Sam." 

"Hi," he replied. He held out his free arm to hug her, and she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his unoccupied shoulder for a second. "It's good to have a chance to see you," he said inanely. 

"Yeah," she said, pulling away. She reached up and patted Andrea's back. "Hi, sweetheart." She turned to Donna with a smile. "The fleece is cute." 

Donna rolled her eyes. "Can you believe I actually entered a Baby Gap? It was the only place we could get it that small, short of driving out to the L.L. Bean store in Virginia." 

"At least she's well-equipped," Ainsley said. 

Sam didn't particularly want to let go of Andrea, but he held her out carefully to Ainsley. "You want to take her?" he asked. "I'll help Donna start on the tent." 

Ainsley accepted the baby delicately and cradled her as she sank onto the picnic bench provided at the campsite. She bent over Andrea, whispering to her and holding one of her little hands. Sam watched them for a moment, taking deep breaths of the crisp early spring air and swallowing hard, before he turned and addressed himself to the tangle of tent poles spread across the ground. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Toby and Josh were perched on a clump of rocks, talking about something Sam couldn't overhear. From the way both of them were flailing their hands in the air, however, he could guess it had something to do with politics. Or baseball. Or really anything else. Josh was burrowing one of his bare feet in the sand, but Toby had conscientiously kept his shoes on. He was scowling underneath his baseball cap. 

Glancing the other way Sam was still able to see Donna and Ainsley as they ambled up the little strip of beach, Donna wearing the straps of the baby carrier over her shoulders. They had been equally deep in conversation about something for quite some time, ever since the other four had broken off into a discussion of Andy's campaign after lunch. Sam didn't know exactly what to make of the fact that Andy was apparently comfortable discussing her campaign strategy in front of a Republican - even one who was distracted by Donna and Josh's baby. The idea pleased him for some reason that he couldn't put his finger on. 

"You look very deep in thought, my friend." 

Andy herself had managed to startle him, her feet not making any sound on the sand. He looked over his shoulder as she approached and shook his head thoughtfully. "I don't really know what I was thinking about," he said. "Just \- zoning, I guess." 

She followed his eyes down the beach to Donna and Ainsley's backs. "I like her," she said. "We didn't really run into each other when she was at the White House, but she's nice." 

'Nice' was a bland word, but Andy seemed to be sincere. He nodded. "She is. She's - a good friend, I guess. Or she would be if we were better friends." He looked back at Andy. "That sounded stupid." 

"I know what you meant." She walked ahead of him and dipped a bare foot into the edge of the river. "Okay, that's cold." 

"It is only April," he pointed out. Like a lemming, he nevertheless followed her lead and tested the water himself. "Yup. Cold." 

Andy took a few steps back, away from the water line, and sat down on the dry sand. She caught the look Sam was giving her and shrugged. "I'm low-maintenance. Sand brushes off." 

"I admire that," he said, dropping to the ground beside her. "Josh and Toby still arguing about attack ads?" 

"Who knows?" she asked blithely. "Arguing makes them happy, so I say, go for it." 

They feel silent for a few minutes, just sitting together and staring out at the water. The wind brushed the ends of her hair against his arm, and she pushed it patiently behind her ears. Finally she nudged his shoulder with her own and said, "Sam." 

"Yeah." 

"I haven't wanted to pry, but something's been a little off, hasn't it?" 

He sighed. "Yeah." Who knew, maybe discussing this with her would be okay. "Robin." 

"Ah," she said meaningfully. "You have a fight?" 

"Not exactly. She - she said she wants some time to, I don't know really \- not talk to me, I guess. She wants to 'think.'" Even as he spoke the word, he could hear the imaginary quotation marks in his tone. "She wants someone who's in the same city." 

To her credit, Andy made no comment. "What did you say?" she asked instead. 

"What was I going to say?" he asked rhetorically. "I told her to take as much time as she needs." Andy shifted beside him and he asked sincerely, "Was that not right?" 

Her eyes were focused on her feet in the cool sand. "It was - fine. It was sensitive. I just - I'm just wondering why you didn't try to talk her out of it. Not out of thinking, I mean, but - why didn't you -" 

"Ask her not to dump me?" 

The look she gave him was wryly apologetic. "Yeah." 

"I honestly don't know," he said, dropping one hand to stir the sand around their legs. "I mean, she hasn't dumped me yet." He sighed. "But she will." 

"Maybe not." 

"No. She sounded - she will. And I don't want her to, but I - I don't know. I feel kind of panicked and relieved at the same time - is that weird?" 

"Depends," Andy said, giving him a smile that actually did manage to lift his mood slightly. "Ask yourself why you feel panicked, and why you feel relieved. I doubt it's for the same reason." 

He turned his eyes back to the water and took a few moments to think about her suggestion. The racing panic in his heart sometimes, the ache in his chest and the lump rapidly developing in his throat, the way he woke up every morning feeling as though he'd misplaced something - he tried to put them all on individual trays and dissect them one by one. He'd honestly been avoiding thinking about these near-physical symptoms, hoping to avoid making them worse. 

Finally he said, without looking back at Andy, "Panic I can do. I don't want her to leave me. But I don't understand - I told you it wasn't serious, and it still isn't. So I don't understand why I'm panicking." 

"Well, if you have feelings for her it doesn't matter if the relationship is technically serious - you still don't want to lose her," Andy pointed out. 

Sam swallowed and kept his face turned away from her. "I don't think I do have feelings for her. I like her, but I don't think it's more than that. But being with her feels right, and I'm afraid to lose that - but that doesn't make sense." 

Andy spoke softly and placed a gentle hand on his knee. "Are you sure it's not just that being with *someone* feels right? That it feels good to be with anyone at all?" 

"No," he said equally softly. "I think that's exactly what it is." 

She was still going slowly, afraid to cross the line. "Are you maybe relieved, then, because you know you don't really love her? And if she breaks it off, then you're out of it?" 

"Maybe," he said almost in a whisper. He shook his head and turned to face her at last. "But then why am I so afraid? I should be glad it's ending and I can move on." 

He could see the muscles in her jaw tightening as she considered her next statement. "I was seeing someone," she said after a while. "About - two, three years ago. It wasn't all that intense - we were exclusive, but we weren't necessarily going anywhere serious. He broke up with me and started dating his secretary, who was at the time, I believe, twenty-four." 

"I'm sorry," he said. 

She shook her head. "It's nothing, anymore. The thing is, when he broke up with me - he said he'd been seeing her for about a month, and that she was already talking about how she wanted to have a family. And I wasn't in a hurry to marry the guy - it just wasn't at that level - and I could see how starting a family with a twenty-four-year-old held a little more potential than expecting to start one with a thirty-nine-year-old." 

He couldn't really come up with a sensitive response to that, so he only nodded. 

"And when we broke up, I was a little glad to be done with it. I felt \- like I had one less thing to worry about. But at the same time - I had this awful feeling that he'd been my last chance to find someone. Having had one marriage fall apart, and being my age - I think panic is a pretty good word for it. I was panicked at the idea of spending the rest of my life alone." 

"What did you do?" he asked quietly. 

"I drank a little more than I should have, for a couple days," she replied, her mouth slightly twisted. She swallowed hard enough that he could see the cords in her neck. "Then I started drafting a new version of the contraceptive coverage bill." 

It was almost funny, but not. Because obviously she had never found a way to deal with the fear and the loneliness - and that did not bode well for him. Wary of what might look like pity or false sympathy, he very carefully wrapped an arm around Andy's shoulders. She gave him a smile that was both wry and warm and leaned forward to touch her forehead to his. "I don't know how to tell you this," she said, "but you're such a good catch, Sam. One of these days it's bound to work out. That sounds so empty, but - the only thing you can do is keep trying to make a connection." 

"I do know that," he said. He glanced over their shoulders at Toby and Josh, who seemed not to be paying attention to them. Still, he released Andy and sat back. "It's just - it's hitting me that this time really failed. Again." 

"I've been there," she said without sarcasm. 

"I know you have." 

Donna and Ainsley were coming back down the beach, still chatting intently. Donna was tickling Andrea's dangling feet as they walked, and Sam felt the familiar pull as he watched. She headed over to where the men were sitting and Josh immediately lifted his daughter out of the carrier and settled her in his lap. Ainsley wandered over to join Sam and Andy near the water's edge. Both of them waved to her as she came closer. 

Ainsley's eyes flickered toward the water. "Do I want to . . ." 

"No," they said in unison. 

"Andrea!" 

Andy twisted around to look at Toby, who was gesturing for her to come over. "Ugh," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I think I'm about to get dragged into something." She got reluctantly to her feet and dusted the sand off her jeans. "Save me if I scream." 

Sam patted the sand next to him, which still bore the imprint of Andy's body. "Have a seat." 

Ainsley dropped down gracefully beside him, a little further away than Andy had been sitting. "How're you doing?" she asked. 

He declined to answer, asking instead, "What were you and Donna talking about? If it's okay to ask." 

"Andrea, mostly," she replied. "The little one." 

"I figured." 

"Also her thesis." 

"Josh told me you were helping her." 

She looked out over the water instead of at him. "I'm not really helping that much, just reading it. She doesn't need much help. It's very good." 

"She must be pretty wiped out," he commented. "I can't believe she's trying to work on it already. She can't be getting any sleep." 

Ainsley smiled. "Half the time she falls asleep while I'm reading it. Which is probably a good arrangement for her, because she knows I'll keep an eye on Andrea if she dozes off." 

"She brings the baby to your office?" 

"Usually around lunchtime, yeah. Then she falls asleep on our couch." 

"You didn't tell me you were doing that." 

"It's not a big thing." 

"It is," he insisted. "She probably enjoys the company as much as the help. Staying home from work and school has to be driving her a little crazy, even as wrapped up in the baby as she is." 

"I enjoy her company," Ainsley said. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her knees. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Sure," she replied brightly. 

"Really?" 

"Of course. What were you and Andrea talking about?" 

"Our sad middle-aged love lives." 

Ainsley laughed. "Seems to be the day for it." 

"Were you and Donna . . ." 

"No, not really. I've just been - brooding, I guess. It's probably just seeing Donna and Josh and the baby. And if one more person says the words 'biological clock' to me, I'm going to scream." 

"I wasn't going to," he promised. 

"I know. It's college friends, and people at work, and my cousins, and my sister . . ." 

"I don't think I even knew you had a sister." 

"She's thirty-three. She's an antiques dealer in Chapel Hill. She got married at twenty-four, and she has five children." 

"Ah." 

"Yes. She claims I will feel dried-up and unfulfilled if I don't have a child by forty." 

"Which gives you . . ." 

"Subtle, Sam. Three years." 

"Okay." He shrugged. "That's a lot of time." 

"I guess. I'm just - afraid, I suppose. Afraid is the wrong word. Concerned." 

"That's what Andy and I were talking about," he said, looking away from her. 

"Yeah?" 

"Robin's going to break up with me," he informed her. 

She winced a little. "I'm sorry." 

"I appreciate that." He spread his fingers in the sand. "Nothing I can do about it. If I'd stayed in New York, but - regardless. Back to the drawing board." 

"You're not going to try . . ." 

"You know," he said, concentrating on his hands, "this sounds awful, but - it's like I've abandoned hope already, and having done that, she matters less than she did." He looked up. "You don't want to hear all this." 

"No, it's okay." Ainsley reached up and carefully brushed back a few loose strands of hair which the wind had blown into her mouth. "God, we're sad." 

He chuckled along with her. "Yeah." He looked back at the group on the rocks. They were still arguing, Andy now evidently in the thick of it, but Toby was rocking the baby expertly on his lap. "What do you think about it?" he asked suddenly. 

"About what?" 

He was watching Andy's thin arms waving in the air between her and Josh, poking out of her vest. "Having a child." 

When he looked back at Ainsley she was frowning. "I do want to," she said. "But I'm not one of those women who would be capable of deciding to just get pregnant. I want the whole deal, the marriage, everything. I just hope I'm not running out of time on that." 

"Exactly," he said. 

Now she was looking back at Toby and the baby. "Sam?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you ever get - you know, at moments like this - an almost - something like an ache, in your chest, like you can't quite breathe enough? Am I making any sense?" 

"Yes," he said seriously. "Exactly." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

It was still fairly early in the year, and the sky was darkening by the time they finished the joint venture of preparing dinner around the fire in the middle campsite. By the time they had eaten, and Andy and Josh had rinsed all the dishes at the pump up the road, it was almost completely dark. They sat in a circle with the firelight on their faces, warm in the front and cold in the back where the early April night air touched them. Donna had just returned from the tent, where she had gone to feed Andrea in private, and was now sitting between Sam and Josh with the baby dozing against her shoulder. "It's funny," she said almost to herself. 

"What?" Josh asked, poking at the base of the fire with a long stick. 

"I was only due this week. If everything had gone as expected, we'd just be bringing Andrea home for the first time now. Instead we've had her with us for two months. I just thought that was kind of funny." 

"It is," Josh said. He put the stick down and reached out his arms for his daughter, as if he suddenly needed to hold her right that second. Donna passed her over to him, and he tucked her under his chin. She stirred a little, and he laid on her back a hand that was almost as big as her body. "Ssshh, baby," he murmured close to her head. "It's okay. Go back to sleep." 

Sam found himself trying to swallow around a lump the size of a golf ball. He glanced over at Ainsley and saw her watching Josh with her jaw a little clenched. 

"Donna?" Josh asked, looking up from his child. "Shouldn't she have the fleece on? She'll be cold." 

"That blanket is warm enough," Donna assured him. "You can't have her in fleece near the fire. It's flammable. If a spark falls on it, it burns." 

"Oh." The sheer amount of the danger averted obviously disturbed him, and he scooted his stool a little further back from the fire, both hands held protectively over Andrea. "This is why we need Donna," he told the others sheepishly. 

By the time they broke to go to sleep, Donna was already leaning tiredly against Josh's shoulder. As they dragged themselves to the tent, Josh reminded them, "Three other tents; somebody's going to have to share." Somehow they had avoided thinking about that all afternoon. 

Andy glanced over at her ex-husband and said, "Uh-uh, Pokey." 

"Wasn't even thinking about it," he replied, ignoring with dignity Sam and Ainsley's snickering. 

"It's just that you kick." 

"Exactly," Sam said. He frowned. Ainsley obviously couldn't share a tent with either Andy or Toby; one would be almost as strange as the other. After months of sleeping on her couch he supposed he could share with Andy without too much weirdness between them; the weirdness would be between them and Toby. 

"Come on, Sam," Ainsley said dryly, tugging at his arm. "I think we can control our raging lust, and let Andrea and Toby have the other two." 

"Okay," he said, blinking. Andy and Toby both looked eminently relieved, so he supposed this really was the best solution. As long as Ainsley didn't kick as much as Toby did. He would have been fully capable of reaching Sam's shins even across a three-person tent. 

Andy and Toby headed off to the other campsite, which held the remaining two tents, and Sam and Ainsley trudged toward their cars to retrieve their bags. He dropped a casual arm across her shoulders as they walked. "What was that about raging lust?" he teased. 

"Don't hold your breath." 

"Hey, just let me know. I'm up for anything." The innuendo was unintentional, and it took both of them a second or two to notice it. They were still laughing when they reached his car, and he was glad she couldn't see his blush in the dark. 

The tent was, fortunately, fairly large. Josh had borrowed it from a fellow professor who frequently took his family of five camping. By mutual decision they simply clicked off their flashlights to change clothes, moving quickly and awkwardly in the dark. When Sam turned on his lantern again, they both rolled out sleeping bags - right next to each other in the middle of the tent. He looked at her, and she looked back. 

"I am not sleeping near the wall," she said. "I like sleeping out, but I can't deal with the raccoons scratching on the tent right next to my head." 

"So I'm supposed to deal with it?" he asked. 

"Be a man." 

"But the person touching the side of the tent always gets damp," he said. 

"Then sleep in the middle and try to keep your passion under wraps," she said calmly. 

He gave her a teasing look, the effect of which was magnified by the dim light. "I don't know that that'll be possible." 

He wouldn't have joked if he hadn't known that she trusted him and felt completely safe with him, and she reacted exactly as he'd intended. She smiled, and rolled her eyes. "Good-night, Sam." 

"Good-night." After a second's consideration he reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Watch out for the raccoons." 


	6. Epiphany 6

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Sam was completely fascinated by Andrea's reaction as the cool water dribbled onto her forehead. She squirmed in C.J.'s arms, her little legs kicking under the white dress and her blue eyes blinking very fast. C.J. ran a gentle hand over the baby's hair, soothing her as the minister finished his job. The trip north for the baptism was the first time she had seen her goddaughter, despite the fact that the child was already three months old. Her job had not allowed her to visit before, and now she was as enamored as Sam. 

He twisted around and got an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the father, who was standing off to the side with Toby and cousin Sylvia behind him. For obvious reasons the Jewish godparents were not a technical part of the baptism ceremony, but they stood close by. It was important to both Josh and Donna to have them there, to have the family complete even though the day was dedicated to the Christian ritual. 

Andy stood in the second pew, behind some of Donna's family. She was at the moment bent nearly in half, trying to explain the whole concept of baptism to Sylvia's six-year-old daughter. The child was completely baffled by how cousin Andrea could be made a Christian by having water poured on her head \- and exactly why this was necessary in the first place. Josh's mother, standing on little Rachel's other side, had to stifle a smile when the child said, "But Ms. Wyatt, my mommy said my cousin Andrea's not Jewish anyway because *her* mommy isn't Jewish, so why does she have to have the water?" 

Andy's eyes met Helen Lyman's over Rachel, and she shook her head cluelessly for a second before answering, "It's just nice, honey. Even though Andrea's mommy and daddy are different religions, this is something nice for Aunt Donna's family." She breathed a sigh of relief when Rachel seemed to accept this explanation for the moment. 

When the minister had finished, pictures had to be taken of the baby with every member of the Moss family, and then every present member of the Lyman family (with Sylvia saying through her teeth as she smiled for the photo, "Yeah, the pictures of me in a church at my goddaughter's baptism are going to be a big hit at Hadassah"). Then pictures of the baby with all her parents' friends, which actually took longer than the photos with the family. 

Sam got a little misty-eyed as he watched Leo sitting in a chair at the party, rocking Andrea in his arms and having a very serious conversation with her. The conversation did not seem to be interrupted by Andrea's landing a well-placed kick on his chin; he simply held onto her foot and wiggled it back and forth while laughing at her. Then he looked up over Sam's shoulder and beamed. "Ainsley!" 

Sam hadn't realized that Leo and Ainsley hadn't seen each other since the new president's inauguration two years previous, but of course it made sense. Leo had all but retired and moved out of the city, and she had only just begun to be included in the Lyman family gatherings. She came from behind Sam, either not seeing him or ignoring him for the moment, and sank into a free chair beside Leo. 

Now that their voices had dropped again, Sam couldn't hear what they were saying, but Ainsley was leaning over to shake hands with the baby and Leo was grinning uncontrollably at her. He had always liked Ainsley; Sam was a little surprised to realize that they must not have kept in touch. But Leo was reaching up in a fatherly gesture to tug at the ends of her shorter hair; he couldn't have seen her lately. 

"I know that look in your eye," a smooth voice said near his ear as a hand dropped onto his shoulder. 

"You're behind me, you can't even see my eyes," he replied without turning around. 

"I know what they look like anyway," she retorted. 

"You and Dionne Warwick." 

C.J. wrapped her arm around his shoulders, taking a step closer in the process. "You really want all this, don't you?" 

He sighed, leaning a little into her embrace. "Is that completely deluded?" 

She hugged him closer before letting him go. "Remember, Josh is significantly older than you are. There's time." 

"My girlfriend dumped me." 

"Did she?" she asked casually. 

He narrowed his eyes at her tone. "Who told?" 

"Andy." 

He nodded resignedly. "It's just - yeah, Josh is older than I am, but he's had Donna for - well, you know. And I don't. Have that, I mean. I don't want Donna. I mean, I love Donna, but -" 

C.J. couldn't hold back her laughter and slapped him heartily on the back in her merriment. "Ow," he said pitifully. 

She only laughed and shook her head. "I've missed you," she said fondly. 

He felt himself turning a little red. "I'm sorry we haven't talked more," he said quietly. 

"Hey, it's okay," she said, rubbing a hand over his back. "We've all been ridiculously busy. After the election you'll come to Atlanta." 

"Yeah," he said. She was being too forgiving, but he wasn't in the mood to complain. 

Toby passed them and calmly handed C.J. his drink on the way over to Leo and Ainsley, presumably so that he could pick up the baby. She shrugged it off and laid the drink on a table as they both watched him scoop Andrea up out of Leo's lap. "Think she's gonna call him Uncle Toby?" C.J. asked. 

"He referred to the woman who is no longer his wife as Aunt Andy. This child owns him," Sam replied with a grin. They both melted into sentimental looks as they watched Toby cradle the baby's blonde head against his jacket. 

"She certainly does," C.J. mused. "I wonder - I mean, he always did have a bit of a soft spot for Donna." 

"And a little one for Josh, too," Sam said. 

C.J. grew quiet for a moment, and then she said, "You know how he feels about you, right?" 

"Toby?" Sam smiled in the older man's direction. "Yeah. I guess I do." 

"I mean, if it were a baby of yours - you know he'd feel the same way." 

"But it's not," Sam said, clearing his throat. He ignored her look. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

As Sam walked through the door, Donna greeted him with one of her sunniest smiles yet. "We have a surprise for you," she said excitedly. "At least, I think." 

The moment he entered the room a small voice cried something that sounded distinctly like "Sam!" Both Donna and Josh immediately burst into quiet applause, Josh bouncing his daughter on his lap and exclaiming, "Good girl!" 

Donna beamed. "We were talking about you yesterday, and she repeated it. We showed her your picture a bunch of times - I *told* you she knew you. It's only her sixth real word - that we can make out, anyway." 

"Oh, my God," Sam exclaimed in wonder. He crossed the room in three steps and picked the baby up, hugging her in his arms. "You're so smart! And such a big girl! You've gotten even bigger since last week." 

"She almost stood up," Josh said. "Donna was holding her hands, and she almost managed it." 

"That's amazing," the proud godfather said, rocking the baby back and forth. "She's unbelievable." 

"Yeah, she is," Josh said, reaching for Donna's hand. 

Sam swallowed hard. "So you have all the numbers for me?" 

Donna held up a piece of paper. "My cell, Josh's cell, the restaurant, and the pediatrician." 

Still balancing Andrea in his arms, Sam took the numbers from her. "And you'll come out and hook up the carseat." 

"Yup." Josh got slowly to his feet. "The carseat is right here, and the diaper bag has everything you need - and probably several things you don't." 

"What's on the menu for tonight?" 

"Peas and some kind of grape applesauce," Donna replied. 

Sam hefted Andrea up and grinned into her cheerful face. "Yum." She laughed and grabbed at his cheeks. 

"Ainsley's coming over, too, right?" Donna asked. 

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "We have thrilling plans to watch 'Much Ado About Nothing' - after a couple rounds of Muppet videos, of course." 

"She also really likes 'Hardball,' if you can't get her to sleep," Josh said. 

"I assume you're referring to Andrea," Sam said. "Because getting Ainsley to sleep isn't really my job." 

Donna snorted and Andrea cracked up in his arms. "Yeah," Sam told her, laughing along, "Mommy's funny, huh?" He turned back to Donna and Josh. "She's going to stay until you guys come for Andrea - so, you know, there will be a responsible female adult in the house at all times." 

Donna stepped to his side and laid a hand on her daughter's back. "We'll be home by ten," she said, a little worry creeping into her voice. 

"You haven't had a whole night out in six months," Sam said. "We'll be fine." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Andrea might have known Sam, but there were still some tears - not when they first left Josh and Donna, because the baby was distracted by the car and probably couldn't tell that her parents weren't there - but when he got her into his apartment. Ainsley arrived only a few minutes after they did, and Andrea was still fussing when he opened the door. 

Ainsley's face melted instantly. "Still looking for Josh and Donna?" 

"Yeah," he said ruefully. "She was fine in the car, I thought we were going to be okay." 

She dropped her purse by the door and held out her arms, and he passed the baby to her. She immediately walked the fussing child into Sam's bedroom, flicking on the lights with her elbow, and stopped her in front of the mirror. "Look at that," she murmured close to the baby's ear. "Who's that? Is that Andrea?" 

Sure enough, Andrea was distracted from her tears and lifted a hand in confusion at the baby in the mirror. "And look back there," Ainsley whispered. "Is that Uncle Sam in the mirror? I think it is." Andrea looked up at his reflection and grinned, and Ainsley spun her around so that she could see actual Sam behind them. Sam grinned back. "Neat trick," he said. 

Ainsley brushed at a soft blonde curl on the baby's forehead. "You'll find that six-month-olds are very easily impressed." 

"I was just walking her around the living room," Sam said sheepishly. 

"She just needed to remember that you're fun," Ainsley said calmly, bouncing the baby on her hip. "We're fine now, aren't we, darling?" 

"You were talking to her, right?" Sam asked, nudging her shoulder. 

"Nerd," she replied. "Come on, I'm having a serious yearning for some Muppet Show." 

Andrea watched the first video from Sam's lap, riveted to the screen. She made them laugh hysterically at her little mannerisms, clapping her hands and then tilting her head back to check out their reactions. They paused to feed her after the video ended - it turned out to require a joint effort, as peas were apparently not her favorite. They finally succeeded by taking turns reading to her from 'Madeline' while the other one slipped the spoon into her mouth. At one point she shot Sam a look so disdainful and so very reminiscent of Donna that they both bent double with laughter. 

Andrea fell asleep in the middle of the second Muppet Show. Sam looked over at Ainsley and whispered, "Probably should keep her out here. We have the carrier, but I don't want to leave her in another room by herself." 

Ainsley nodded and carefully transferred the sleeping baby from his lap to hers. She jerked her head toward the VCR. "Shakespeare time." 

Andrea woke up twice during the movie, and they gently lulled her back to sleep between them with only one required diaper change. By the time the movie ended, Ainsley was growing sleepy herself. She ran her fingers tiredly through the baby's hair while Sam got up and rewound the video. 

"So," he said softly when he had returned to the couch. "Tell me about the guy." 

"The guy?" she asked, equally softly. 

"Donna said there was a guy." 

"Ah." She rolled her eyes. "She's right. There was." 

"Oh," he replied. "There isn't anymore?" 

"No," she said definitively, looking at Andrea, not at him. "We had a grand total of three dates." 

"Nothing?" 

"He was a nice guy," she said. "But, you know, that's about all." She shrugged and very lightly stroked the back of Andrea's hand. "Maybe I'm being overly picky, but I'm just not prepared to settle for that." 

"You shouldn't have to," he said gently. 

"Yeah." She sighed, still not lifting her eyes from the baby. Sam followed her gaze and they both fell silent, just watching the little girl's chest rise and fall as she slept. He traced his fingertips gently over her stomach and whispered, "This has to be the most adored child on the eastern seaboard." 

Her breath caught; she thought twice before going ahead and saying, "Well, she has a lot of honorary aunts and uncles who haven't had their own children." 

He nodded, his knowledge that she shared his dilemma preventing him from being offended. After a moment he reached out and laced his fingers through hers. She gave him a grateful smile for a brief second; then Andrea gave a tiny cough and they both turned awed attention back to her. 

By the time Josh and Donna came to the door, Ainsley had gotten her second wind and Sam had dozed off while they watched 'Frasier.' She opened the door with a finger to her lips; both Josh and Donna laughed silently when they saw Sam asleep on the couch with Andrea sleeping in his arms. Donna went down on one knee beside him and gently shook his shoulder. "Sam," she said softly. "Wake up, old man. It's only ten o'clock; we're not even that tired." 

"Long day," he murmured, rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

"How did she do?" Donna asked, lifting her sleeping child from his lap. 

"Fine," Ainsley whispered. "She was a little fussy when I first got here, but then she settled in. She likes Sam." 

"She likes you, too," Donna said. Andrea stirred against her shoulder and Donna crooned, "Hi, baby. Here we are. Time to go home to our own bed." 

Josh and Donna gathered the baby's things, kissed Ainsley and Sam, and departed with Andrea still fast asleep. Josh returned after a moment to give Sam's car keys back after they had reclaimed the baby seat, and then they drove off. 

Ainsley yawned and slowly pulled on her jacket. "I am not really this tired at quarter after ten. When did I become a senior citizen?" 

"Same time I did," he groaned. "Thanks for keeping me company." 

"My pleasure," she said. "I love Andrea." 

"And me?" he teased. 

"And you," she returned with half a smile, which he wasn't sure he expected. He hugged her goodnight briefly and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam looked up from his phone call to see Ainsley standing in the doorway, waving a brown paper bag at him. He sent her both a nod of greeting and a quizzical look at the same time, still talking on the phone to a major campaign contributor. When he had finally hung up, he sighed and slouched in the chair. "Hi." 

"Hi," she returned, sitting down on the couch in the corner of the office that had been commandeered for the Senate race. She picked up the bag again. "I figured you'd be stuck doing calls, so I brought you a sandwich." 

His face brightened and he realized he was in fact hungry. "What kind?" 

"Corned beef." 

"Oooh." He came and sat on the couch beside her, waiting patiently while she lifted his sandwich out of the bag and handed it to him with a can of soda. "Thank you. This is great." 

She leaned back against the couch, studying him carefully. "You look tired." 

He sighed and let his eyes close for a few seconds. "Yeah." 

"Things are really getting down to the wire, huh?" 

He shrugged. "It's much worse for Andy. She's the one trying to do her actual job, and make all the speeches and appearances at the same time." 

Ainsley laughed a little. "Whereas all her speeches and appearances *are* your actual job?" 

"Basically." He grinned and unwrapped his sandwich. "I do come up with brilliant policy suggestions occasionally." 

"I saw her on C-SPAN the other night," Ainsley said. "That thing she was talking about - tax deductions for child care? That was you, right?" 

"It was about half me and half Donna," Sam admitted. "Clearly a topic she's had some time to think about." 

That reminded her. "She said Andy offered her a job." 

"Only if she gets elected, of course," Sam said. "She can't really afford to expand the staff unless she's moving to the Senate - but if she wins, Donna has a job." 

"And a child-care problem," Ainsley said. 

"They're discussing a lot of options," Sam replied. 

"And of course she's a little more worried about her thesis at the moment." 

"Yeah." Sam stopped eating and let his head drop back against the couch for just a second. "God, she needs to win." 

Ainsley brushed her hand very lightly against his. "I think she will." 

He turned his head to look at her thoughtfully. "Would you vote for her?" 

"I couldn't," she said regretfully, shaking her head. 

His jaw tightened. "Why, would the RNC have a problem with it?" 

She rolled her eyes. "No, but the United States Constitution might." 

"So we've constitutionalized blind party loyalty?" His voice dripped with sudden sarcasm, and she responded as though she were dealing with a five-year-old. 

"No," she said very slowly. 

"Then why the hell . . ." 

"Because I don't live in Massachusetts, you twit." 

Sam had the good grace to look chagrined. "Right. Sorry." 

She shook her head. "It's okay." 

"I guess I'm more tired than I thought." 

"It's okay," she repeated. "Eat, you're practically transparent." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Andy dropped her head onto her folded arms, across the pile of polling reports Global Strategies had just delivered. "I vote we quit and go home," she grumbled. 

Sam reached down and ruffled her hair as he settled into the chair beside her desk. "You could go. I can break down the numbers and talk to you and Toby about them tomorrow." 

Her face was still hidden, but Sam couldn't mistake the stiffening of her spine. "Something wrong?" he asked gently. 

Andy turned her head to the side so that her mouth was no longer buried in her sleeve. "No." 

"Andy." 

"Nothing's wrong." 

"I talked to you." 

"Poor choice," she muttered. 

"Andy." 

She somehow managed to shrug with her face still down on the desk. "We've been fighting." 

"You and Toby?" 

"Yes." 

"That's - pretty normal for you, isn't it?" 

She pushed herself up to a sitting position reluctantly. "Not like this." 

"What's it about?" 

"Who knows." She slumped in the chair. "It's about - nothing. Which is what we always fought about. But before - even when we were married, when we were filing for divorce - the fights ended, and then we'd both feel bad, and . . . but now it's like we stay angry all the time. The fight technically comes to an end, and he still has this look on his face like he has no idea why he's in the same room with me. I just . . ." She exhaled, looking at the desktop. "Before, when we had our worst fights - I knew we couldn't live together anymore, but I never got the feeling that he had stopped liking me." 

"Andy." He started to reach out and put a hand on her back, but withdrew it. "He hasn't stopped liking - caring about you. I *know* he hasn't." 

"There's no reason why I should care," she murmured. 

"Of course there is," he said as soothingly as possible. "You guys are special. Everyone could always see it, even after the divorce - it's so easy to tell how much you still care about each other, even though it didn't work out." 

"I'm not sure he still does," she said quietly. 

"Do you want him to?" 

"I don't know," she said. "It doesn't make sense, but - it feels horrible thinking he might have lost - I don't know, his good opinion of me, or his feelings for me, or something." 

"I don't think he could ever do that," he whispered. 

"I don't know why I care," she said again. She raised her eyes to Sam's face. "Tell me a pathetic story about your love life? Please?" 

He laughed gratefully. "There are a whole host of those." 

She smiled. They both hesitated for a moment, and then leaned forward and wrapped their arms around each other. He cradled Andy close to him, stroking her hair and just enjoying the closeness for as long as it lasted. 

He wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but suddenly his lips were on hers and her fingers were tightening on his upper arms. The kiss started out completely calm, their mouths simply pressed together, but then it developed into something else - not particularly passionate, but deep and slow. Andy's fingers gently stroked the back of his neck as he tangled his hands in her long hair. It had been five months since he'd been with anyone like this, and the sensation was overwhelming. He supposed he had always had a tiny crush on Andy \- the kind of crush that you squelch quickly because the woman is your boss's wife. 

He pulled away from her so suddenly that she nearly fell in his lap. "God, Andy," he said raggedly, stroking her hair back from her face. "I'm sorry - I don't know what the hell happened." 

"I was kind of involved," she said with a little cough. She pulled his hands away from her face and held them between their bodies. "I'm sorry, too. I - have no idea what that was." 

"I feel like I took advantage of you," he said, still holding her hands. 

Andy offered him a weak smile. "You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning for that." 

"Still." 

"If anything, I took advantage of you," she said. "I was feeling lonely and grouchy and you were there, and I . . . feel like I used you." 

"Is that what it was?" he asked. 

She thought for a moment. "No. It wasn't - it was nice." 

"It was nice," he replied softly. He held her eyes with his. "We can't ever do it again." 

"No, that would clearly be a terrible idea." She pushed her chair back and stood up. "I think I am going to go home and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Don't worry about the polling numbers - we can break them down with Toby tomorrow." Her voice faltered almost guiltily when she said her ex-husband's name. 

"Okay," he replied. He stood as she took her coat from the hook near her desk and shrugged it on, staring out the window at the fall evening instead of looking at him. She clicked off her desk lamp and her pale skin and bright hair glowed in the dim overhead light. As she passed him he grabbed her arm to stop her, gave her a chaste kiss on the lips, and then watched her leave the office. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Nola was manning CNN online, and occasionally shouting out that the numbers had been updated. "First and third are reporting!" she yelled from a corner of the headquarters. 

"And?" Toby yelled back impatiently. 

"Hang on, it hasn't come up yet . . . Fifth, tenth, and twelfth will be ready to report within ten minutes . . . wait, here - here's the third district -" She broke off and whooped excitedly. "Barker, 43% - Wyatt, 52% - Carnarvon, less than 5% - we got the third!" 

Amongst the screaming, Sam replied, "The first was tighter - is it up yet?" 

"Hang on . . ." Nola shrieked and pumped one fist in the air. "Unbelievable! 56% in the first!" 

"And we're on fire!" Josh shouted. He had cancelled classes for two days and he and Donna had driven up to Andy's district to be with them all on election night. 

Donna emerged from the back room, where she had been putting Andrea to bed. "I hear screaming," she said. 

"Did we wake up the baby?" Sam asked guiltily. 

"No, it's not that loud back there. Chrissy's watching her," she said, referring to one of Andy's aides from the district office. "She has the little TV on with the sound down, so she won't miss anything." 

"CNN!" Toby called imperiously. They all turned their attention back to the TV in time to hear Jeff Greenfield say, "And we turn now to the early results from the Senate race in Massachusetts. With three precincts now officially reporting, Democratic Representative Andrea Wyatt holds a tentative lead with 54% of the vote." They all sort of bounced excitedly, but no one wanted to miss hearing anything. "Exit polls indicate Congresswoman Wyatt may be able to maintain her lead as the night progresses - we'll be giving you an official update as soon as that news becomes available. Turning now to the heavily contested Senate race in Oregon . . ." 

Sam grasped Andy's hand briefly. "So far, so good," he murmured. 

She shook her head and glanced over at Josh and Donna, who were leaning into each other and giving her excited looks. "I need to get out for a second," she said softly. "I'm going to go check on the baby." Sam nodded, and she headed off into the back room. 

No one told Andy when CNN's website reported that Barker had taken two districts in the state's conservative northern regions, but he did go looking for her when all the Boston-area districts went to her. She was alone in the small back office, sitting in an armchair staring at the quiet TV with Andrea in her arms. "Where's Chrissy?" Sam asked softly. 

"Went to the bathroom," Andy replied. "You don't have to whisper; she woke up a minute ago and I haven't gotten her back down yet." A muffled whimper against her shoulder and a minor bout of squirming from the baby illustrated her point. 

"Has she been fussy?" Sam asked, sitting down near them. 

"No," Andy said, rubbing the little girl's back. "I thought she'd be anxious for Donna, but we seem to be all right here." 

"It is calming, holding her," Sam said, reaching out to stroke the baby's curls. 

"Yeah," Andy replied softly. 

"You took the whole Boston region," he told her. "Barker got two districts in the north." 

"We expected that." 

"Yeah." Andrea whimpered again, and he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. "She's settling a little, I think." 

"Hopefully. It can't be good to keep her up," Andy replied. 

"Andrea!" The shout echoed all the way down the hall. The baby made a slightly crankier noise and tried to push herself up on her arms on Andy's shoulder, her little feet landing a solid kick on Andy's stomach. 

"Ouch," she groaned. "Nothing wrong with her reflexes." 

"That was Toby," Sam said. 

"No kidding." She got to her feet. "Well, come on. Now that she's really awake we might as well bring her with us." 

They had barely entered the room when Toby called out, "CNN says the last three Massachusetts districts should be reporting within the next ten minutes." 

"More have come in?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah - they were about half and half," Josh replied. "Half for Andy, half for Barker." 

Andy grabbed one of the baby's dangling feet before it could catch her in the stomach again. "So we wait," she said. 

Unsurprisingly, the Republican won in the Texas Senate race. Andy's staff gathered around the television, completely on edge, except for Nola who was still patrolling the CNN website for any hint of what the news would be. Josh stood behind Donna's chair with his hands resting on his wife's shoulders, rubbing them affectionately and whispering something only she could hear. Andy was still bouncing the baby against her shoulder, Sam and Toby flanking her on either side, when Greenfield turned to the Massachusetts race. 

"The final district has now reported in Massachusetts, and we are prepared to call the race for the open Senate seat as well as all the Congressional races. With 57% of the total vote, the winner in the Massachusetts Senate race is Democratic Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt. Republican challenger John Barker garnered 41% of the statewide vote, with the remainder going to Green Party candidate Ian Carnarvon. Interestingly, Senator-elect Wyatt was also reelected to the House of Representatives in her home district. That seat is now open and will be filled by special election. This raises the total number of women currently serving in the United States Senate to an unprecedented fifteen . . ." 


	7. Epiphany 7

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Thanksgiving at the Lyman house had become something of a tradition, although this was only the second time. This year Leo was missing; with no impending grandchild this year, he had gone to the Bartlet farm. He would be back in time for his grandson's first birthday the week after Thanksgiving. 

This year, as Leo had correctly predicted, they were celebrating both Andy's new title and the presence of her namesake at the holiday table, with her baby seat ready next to Donna. Ainsley had been invited to join them the second Donna found out she didn't have enough time to travel to North Carolina and would therefore be alone. The other addition was C.J., who had taken an extra two days off from work and flown up from Georgia to install herself in Josh and Donna's guest room. 

When Sam wandered into the kitchen during a break in one of the football games, he found C.J. dancing Andrea around the room while Andy and Ainsley sat side by side at the table studiously chopping vegetables. Donna looked up from the half-stuffed turkey on the counter and asked, "Need a drink?" 

"No, just wanted to say hi," he said idly. On her next pass around the kitchen C.J. stopped before him and passed Andrea into his arms. 

"She's gotten a little heavier since May," she quipped as he received the child. The baby grinned at him as he bounced her in the air. 

"She's growing like a little weed," he said, smiling insanely at Andrea and punctuating every word with a little bounce. She laughed gleefully and rattled off a string of baby syllables, one of which was recognizably his name. "I think she wants to come watch football," he said seriously, taking one of her hands between his thumb and forefinger and shaking it. 

"Oh, is that what she said?" C.J. asked, laughing at the expression on his face. 

Donna waved him toward the living room. "Take her. Keep the child amongst the menfolk whilst we craft dinner." 

"'Kay." He glanced at the assemblage of vegetables on the table. "Can I have a carrot first?" 

Andy passed an unchopped small carrot to Ainsley, who held it up to him. He struggled for a moment to free a hand from Andrea's grip, then gave up and took the carrot from her with his teeth. Once his hand was free, he removed the carrot from his mouth and said, "Thanks. I go to rejoin the menfolk." On the way out he batted at Ainsley's shorter, bouncier ponytail (managing not to touch her hair with the carrot) and commented, "Cute." 

She swatted his hand away with a piece of celery. "Go corrupt the girlchild with your sports." 

He actually stuck his tongue out at her, quite primly, and then winced when Andrea whacked him in the nose. "Ow," he said quietly as he carried her from the kitchen amidst chuckles from the women. 

Andrea learned quickly that the key to watching football with her daddy and his friends - something from which Donna usually spared her - was throwing her hands up in the air whenever they did. She laughed out loud when they cheered; the first time Toby groaned loudly at a bad play she hid her face in Sam's shirt, and in deference to her ears they kept the noise down after that. 

By the time Ainsley came out to ask if anyone wanted lunch, Andrea had started to doze in Sam's lap. Ainsley paused for a moment, watching him caress the baby's head with a gentle hand, before she asked in a tone just below her normal speaking voice, "Anyone want a sandwich?" 

Three hands were immediately raised, and she grinned. "Stupid question. Someone want to come help me bring them in?" 

Josh and Toby pointed at Sam. "Hey," he complained in Josh's direction. "I'm holding your child." 

"Well, give someone else my child and bring me a sandwich, woman," Josh said, not quite managing to keep a straight face. 

Sam groaned exaggeratedly and lifted Andrea very gently into Toby's lap before following Ainsley back to the kitchen. 

By the time dinner was ready, everyone was completely ravenous again, and there was a minor stampede amongst the men to get into the dining room. Toby nearly got clocked in the head by a glass bowl of sweet potatoes, which Andy managed to grab out of the way at the last minute as they all came barrelling toward her. 

In the absence of a Leo-like figure, they had put Josh and Donna at the ends of the table in formal host positions, with Toby, Andy, and C.J. down one side of the table and Sam and Ainsley on the other with Andrea's baby seat between Sam and Donna. Donna asked Sam to "say something;" when he looked at her for clarification she said, "Anything. I feel like someone should say something before we eat." 

Sam cleared his throat, looked up and down the table, and exchanged glances with Andy across from him. "Okay. Well. Obviously we're all very - fortunate to be here together, again, and to have C.J. back with us, and Ainsley. And we should all thank Josh and Donna for once again tolerating all of us in their home." He reached over and let one hand rest for a moment on Andrea's head; she responded by banging her sturdy plastic spoon on the table and giving him a brilliant smile. "And we're all thankful for Andrea, who has added so much to, I think, all our lives, and grateful to Donna and Josh for letting us share her." 

Donna gave him a look that melted his heart completely; he knew he couldn't even look at Josh. He continued only after clearing his throat again. "And, uh, I think we should all be grateful for the other things that have happened in our lives since we were here last year - Andy won the election, so four of us still have jobs, Georgetown hasn't fired Josh yet, Donna's thesis is going to be brilliant and we'll all get to see her graduate in January, C.J. managed to be nominated for two awards in one year - and thanks to Andy and the brand new Democratic senators from Delaware, Ohio, New Jersey, and Kansas, Ainsley's now working for the *minority* committee staff - sorry about that." Ainsley smacked his arm, and he grinned as he finished up. "So, all in all, it's been a positive year. I know we all have - things that we hope to have happen before we do this again next year, so let's all keep our fingers crossed for each other." 

Donna paused to make sure he was finished, then reached all the way past her daughter to pat his hand. "Thank you, Sam." 

"You're welcome." 

She gestured at the loaded table. "Okay, we can eat now." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

It all happened very fast - Donna and Ainsley appeared in the office with Andrea in her stroller, explaining that Donna had come by with the last draft of her thesis, and then they said something about having a girls' lunch, and the next thing Sam knew he had a baby in his lap and her mother was long gone. 

"Well," he said to Andrea, who was observing him from his knee, "this might be a good day for Aunt Andy to start thinking about that child care deduction again." 

When Andy did come looking for him on her return from a meeting, she had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Sam was sitting on the couch in her office, his glasses on, and a spread of papers and binders around him. He had Andrea in his lap, one arm firmly around her waist while the other held up the paper he was currently reading. He was trying to keep her under control while she tried to roll over in his lap, leaning back against him with her little feet coming up in the air. She had the end of his tie in one hand and was waving it around like a flag. 

When Sam looked up and noticed Andy, he looked sheepishly at her from behind his glasses. "Donna and Ainsley went to lunch," he said as though that were a perfectly acceptable reason for him to be working with a baby on his lap. 

"I see," Andy said, her amusement evident in her voice. She crossed the room and rescued him, prying Andrea's hand off his tie and lifting her into the air. "Hello, sweetheart," she said serenely, propping the baby against her shoulder. She tickled the curls at the base of the baby's neck with the end of a finger until Andrea laughed. "Were you helping Sam?" 

"She has some fascinating ideas on international trade," Sam said. 

"Yeah?" Andy was still smiling into the baby's face. 

"Yeah. I was sensing definite approval of the steel tax proposal - not so much the embargo renewals. She kind of whacked at those." 

"Smart girl," Andy said, straightening Andrea's sweater and pulling one loosening sock back up onto her foot. She finally turned back to Sam. "I'm just going to eat lunch - want me to keep her for a while?" 

Sam was torn between not wanting to give the baby up, and knowing he had a lot of work to get through. Congress was technically not in session anymore - the new session would begin with the swearing-in of the new representatives and senators in January - but there were still proposals and ongoing discussions and meetings with the newly- elected representative from Andy's home district, not to mention hiring issues for her expanded senate staff. He nodded at Andy. "Sure, you take her. Donna should be back in about half an hour." 

"Does she need to be fed?" 

"Donna said she fed her in Ainsley's office." 

"Okay." Andy gave the little girl a bounce in her arms. "We'll be in the outer office, charming staffers." 

Sam smiled affectionately. "Okay." 

When Donna and Ainsley returned for the baby, they both dropped into the back office to say hello and thank you to Sam. He and Ainsley made arrangements to meet for happy hour at a pub near the Senate office buildings where she worked; he'd wind up taking work home with him if he left the office that early, but he knew a break would be welcome. 

When they had left with Andrea, Andy came back into the office and moved a small pile of papers to sit on the couch with Sam. "So," she said. 

He looked up over his glasses like an absent-minded professor. "Hi." 

"Hi," she replied. She rubbed the bridge of her nose awkwardly before saying, "So, not to pry . . ." 

"Yes?" 

"You and Ainsley have been spending quite a lot of time together." 

He put his papers down on his lap and looked straight ahead at the wall. "Yeah. I guess we have." 

"Anything . . ." 

"We're friends," he said. "We've been friends for a long time, since she first came to the White House. Well, almost." 

"Not good enough friends to keep in touch when you left," she said. 

"We did keep in touch, sort of. We emailed, mostly about work, but - when we worked together, that's all we talked about anyway. We were friends, but we mostly talked about research and bills and speeches. Then we - it got awkward to discuss what was going on at the White House, you know. It was my fault we stopped talking for a while, until I moved back." 

"Have you ever thought . . . ?" Andy asked. 

"Not really," he said, removing his glasses finally and turning his body to look at her. "Not that I wouldn't - but she's a friend, a good friend. That's what she's always been." 

"Hmm," Andy said thoughtfully. 

He touched her arm. "Everything okay?" 

"Sure," she replied. 

"I mean with -" 

"Fine," she said, cutting him off. 

They had never talked about the kiss, hadn't referenced it between them even when they were alone. It had not happened again. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam suspected something might be a little wrong when Josh called the office at nine a.m. and asked if he could come over to Georgetown for lunch. Josh, it turned out, did not have any classes that day but was having open office hours for his one undergraduate course. When Sam arrived there were four students in the office, two boys who were quizzing Josh on something related to election strategy, and two girls who appeared to be there mostly to play with Andrea. Now that Donna's thesis was due in two weeks, Josh had taken to bringing the baby to school with him - there was a generous supply of willing babysitters to take her while he taught. 

When Sam appeared in the doorway, one of the girls looked up and her eyes widened. "Are you Mr. Seaborn?" she asked. 

"Yes," he replied uncertainly. 

"I've seen you on TV," she said. "I'm from Boston. My whole family voted for Wyatt." 

"Great," he said. He reached over and patted Andrea's head, earning him adoring looks from the two girls. "Hey, baby," he said softly. 

"Okay," Josh announced as the two boys exited his office, "ladies, time to return my child and go start researching your final paper." Amid groans he lifted the baby in his arms and good-naturedly chased his students out into the hall. As they exited, Sam heard one of them murmur to the other, "Lyman is so cute! I could never have pictured him with a baby, but he's so adorable!" It took conscious effort for Sam not to snicker. 

The urge to laugh faded when he turned around and saw Josh buckling Andrea into the baby backpack. He looked serious. 

"What's up?" he asked, dreading the answer. 

Josh saw his face and offered him a smile. "It's not bad. Really, it's pretty good. It's just -" He sighed. "Help me buckle this thing on, and we'll go eat." 

They didn't start talking about Josh's issue until they were seated at a window table in the student center with their lunches. Andrea was comfortably ensconced in Sam's lap, and he was plying her with manageable bits of his sandwich, which she attacked with her ever- increasing supply of teeth. Josh finally took a deep breath and jumped in. 

"So, Donna graduates in January, and she's taking a couple weeks off and going to work for Andy in February," he said slowly. 

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied. 

"And she's having another baby in May." 

Sam took several seconds to respond, and when he finally found his tongue he could only say, "Are you kidding?" 

Josh shook his head slowly, looking extremely sober. "It's - it wasn't exactly planned." 

"Yeah," Sam said, still astonished. 

"She, uh - she hadn't gone back on the pill yet, you know, because she was nursing, and nothing else is foolproof . . ." Josh flushed a little at the idea of discussing birth control with Sam. "I mean, the pill isn't foolproof either, but you know." He cleared his throat. "She stopped nursing recently, and went in for a checkup before she started the pill again, and the doctor called and told her not to start." He shrugged. "That's it." 

"What does Donna say?" Sam asked. 

Josh took a sip of his soda to give himself more time to respond. "Well, obviously she's - I mean, she was remarkably unconcerned when we had Andrea in the middle of her last year in school. But now - she has her job starting, and one baby in the house already and - well, we've solved the childcare problem, but . . ." 

"You have?" 

"Yeah." Josh did manage to look pleased with himself for a moment. "We hadn't wanted to presume, but she suggested it herself \- Ginger's going to take Andrea during the day." 

"That's a perfect solution," Sam said, surprised that he had never thought of it. Ginger had married in the last year of the Bartlet administration and had given birth soon after to a daughter of her own. Her little girl was now almost two and Ginger had opted to stay home with her. 

"For the moment," Josh said. "We were surprised she wanted to have two babies in the house all day - how could we ask her to take another one?" 

Sam nodded seriously. "What does Donna say?" he repeated, conscious that Josh had never really answered the question. 

Josh shrugged. "What's she going to say? She wanted a family. The timing is terrible, worse than terrible, but - she's so in love with Andrea, as soon as she heard she was pregnant again - well, first she threw up, but then she started to talk about how much she loves the second one already. I was worried she was just covering, but she seems to be okay. She's hoping for another girl so Andrea can have a sister so close to her own age." 

"You're still worried." 

"Who wouldn't be?" Josh reached over the table and let his daughter grasp his finger in hers. "We're doing great with Andrea, but there's no way to tell if we'll be able to manage another one so soon." 

"And you feel guilty," Sam said. 

"Yes." 

"It's her doing, too. You didn't do it alone. You didn't do it *to* her." 

"I know," Josh said softly. Andrea chose that moment to raise her arms in the air and call impatiently, "Da!" With a smile, Sam lifted her over the table into her father's outstretched arms. Josh hugged his daughter to him, kissing her hair and whispering to her, "There's my girl." 

"I think you're going to be fine," Sam said. "I'm probably almost as worried about Donna's health as you are, and you're both going to be very tired, but you guys are great parents. It's going to be okay." 

"Sure," Josh said. He didn't sound entirely convinced. 

"Donna's incredible," Sam said. 

That brought a smile from Josh. "Yes. She is." 

Donna's voice calling them made Sam jump guiltily. He twisted and looked over his shoulder to see her coming toward them with her backpack. "Does she know I know?" he whispered to Josh. 

"Yeah," Josh replied, standing up with Andrea over his shoulder to greet his wife. "Here comes Mommy," he whispered, pointing. 

Andrea greeted Donna with one arm outstretched, but Sam intercepted her and pulled her into an embrace. "I hear congratulations are in order," he said, trying to be upbeat. 

"Yeah," she said brightly. 

He brushed the hair back from her face with both hands and kissed her forehead. "I think it'll be great to have another Andrea. You can count on any help I can give." 

"Thanks," she said, holding his elbows. Andrea had begun to whimper and flex her little fingers in Donna's direction, so Donna pulled away from Sam and took her daughter into her arms. "Hi, baby," she said, smiling at the gleeful chatter of nonsense words. Andrea was clearly attempting to update her mother on her day. "That's fascinating," Donna laughed, brushing her forehead against her daughter's. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Ainsley had walked Sam back from lunch, back not to Rayburn but to Andy's temporary office space in the basement of the Dirksen Senate Office Building. They had spent lunch discussing not politics but a movie they had both seen - separately - over the weekend; avoidance of politics had become habit when they wanted to have a purely pleasant lunch, rather than one that felt slightly like an argument. Their excited conversation ceased when they approached the office door and heard the shouting. 

"She was alone with an intern when I left," Sam whispered, pulling Ainsley by the arm against the wall so they could both listen. 

A man's voice boomed and Ainsley whispered back, "That's not an intern." 

Sam sighed. "No, it's Toby." 

"That's good, right?" When Sam gave her a quizzical look she replied, "I mean, at least she's not in danger, or being threatened, or anything." 

"Well, that's true." He pressed his ear to the wall. "Damn - I can hear both their voices, but I can't make out any words." 

"Me either," she whispered back. Then she pushed away from the wall. "And we're going to look pretty weird if anyone sees us out here." 

"No kidding," he said. 

"Are you going in?" she asked. 

He sighed and looked at the closed door. "I guess I'll just barrel in as if we couldn't hear anything from out here." 

"Good luck." Her tone implied he would definitely need it. 

"Yeah." He gave her one last plaintive look, then opened the door while loudly announcing his approach. "Andy? I'm back." 

Andy and Toby were facing off across a desk. They hardly looked up when Sam entered, but the conversation - if you could call it that \- ceased immediately. Toby looked over at him first. "I'm going out to meet with Carver," he said gruffly. "See if you can iron out her remarks for Christmas Eve on the Cape." 

When he had gone Andy scrubbed both hands over her face and sank into the nearest chair. Sam hesitated for only a second before sitting down beside her and rubbing a hand up and down her back. "Rough day?" he asked. 

She laughed sardonically. "Oh, yeah." 

"What was that about?" 

She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about." 

"Nothing to do with the office?" 

"Definitely not." She shrugged. "Typical me and Toby. He bellows orders, I say no, we scream a lot. He usually wants something I'm not willing to give. And so . . ." 

"What was it?" 

She looked at him in mild surprise. "What was what?" 

"What he wanted, that you weren't willing to give." 

Andy shook her head again. "Nothing. Nothing." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam took advantage of his longest vacation in years to spend Christmas with his mother in California. He spoke briefly on the phone with both Toby and Andy, who had inexplicably traveled together to her Massachusetts house. Well, Andy had a logical reason - she was spending Christmas in her home district, amongst her constituents, and enjoying her last pre-Senate holiday away from DC. It was Toby's decision to go with her that Sam couldn't comprehend - nor could he discern Andy's reason for letting him. Toby had been planning all along to go up for one night, to hear her speak at a town gathering, but now he was spending an entire week with his ex-wife at what appeared to be the most volatile point in their sixteen-year relationship? Made no sense. 

On the phone, however, they both sounded relatively normal. Toby growled about snow and outdoor tree-lighting ceremonies, and Andy wished him a bright "Merry Christmas" and asked after his mom. He asked her guardedly how everything was, and she gave him a small laugh. 

"Toby wants to know how you dealt with that couch for so many weekends," she said. 

"I'm younger and stronger," he said, chuckling. 

"I'm telling him you said that. You are so toast when we get home." 

"Empty threats, Andrea." 

"Think so, Samuel?" 

His voice dropped a notch. "Is everything really okay?" 

"Yes," she said seriously. 

"Really, Andy." 

"Really," she replied. She paused, and he imagined she was waiting for Toby to leave the room. He could see her sitting on the same infernal couch, probably wrapped in the black shawl that never saw the light of day outside that house, probably trying to do twelve things at once while cradling the phone in the curve of her shoulder. She sighed into the phone. "We're almost managing civility in honor of the holiday season," she said. "It's kind of nice, actually." 

"As long as you're okay. Both of you," he said. 

"We're fine. We're - dealing with things. It's all right." 

He wished, after hearing the tone of her voice, that he could put his arms around her. But he also believed her - and he trusted Toby. They might fight, but he knew that Toby really was in the end more interested in taking care of Andy than in arguing with her. 

Josh and Donna were a brighter spot on his Christmas phone call list. They each picked up a different receiver at the same time and tripped over each other's sentences telling him how Andrea had liked her first Christmas. She had been enchanted by the Chanukah candles as well, but the tree was much larger and more colorful and there was much more wrapping paper to be tossed around on Christmas. They put her on the phone, murmuring that she should say Merry Christmas to Uncle Sam - which obviously she didn't, but she did babble into the receiver until he grinned to himself. He spoke seriously to her, telling her about the ocean outside his mother's house and making seagull noises until she giggled. 

Donna's voice replaced Andrea's. "She knows your voice, but she can't quite work out where it's coming from." 

"I wish I could see her." 

"Well, we'll have a fabulous New Year's party when you get back." Donna cleared her throat. "I've gained three pounds this week. I don't remember starting this early last time." 

"You were probably a little more excited about gaining the weight last time," he said. "I bet you look beautiful." 

"That's what Josh says," she grumbled. 

He laughed at her tone. "If I were there right now I would kiss you," he said affectionately. "Give Josh and Andrea a kiss for me." 

"I will," she promised. "We'll see you soon. We love you." 

"I love you, too," he replied, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

When the door was opened for Sam, he was greeted with the sight of Andrea, in Josh's arms, with a little streamered hat on her head. He burst out laughing and held out his arms for his goddaughter. "Look at you," he said as she came willingly into his arms. "Such a silly girl." 

"Oh, there's one for you, too," Josh said. 

"It won't really go with my suit," Sam replied, bouncing a thrilled Andrea on his hip. 

Donna met them in the living room, wearing a dress he had seen before - she had worn it at some formal function before he had even left the White House. It was an obvious choice on this occasion - the waist was high and the skirt full enough that any extra pounds were unnoticeable. It was hard to believe she was four months pregnant again. 

By the time he had hugged Donna, Sam had caught sight of Ainsley on the couch chatting with one of Josh's fellow professors. She stood when she saw him, and he raised his eyebrows in exaggerated approval. "Nice dress, Hayes," he said, reaching out one hand to her. 

She took it with a smile, coming just close enough that their arms weren't stretched. "Thanks. You're looking remarkably pale for someone who spent his vacation at the beach." 

"It was chilly," he said. He tugged her closer and kissed her cheek. "How was home?" 

"Good. Cute. My youngest niece was playing an angel in `The Nutcracker' in Chapel Hill. Very sweet." 

"Which one is that?" 

"Dixie." 

"You're joking," he spluttered, fighting back his laughter. 

"Nope," she replied, laughing with him. "Her real name is Mary Alice." 

"Poor kid is destined to be Miss North Carolina someday, isn't she?" 

"If Della has anything to say about it, definitely." 

The entrance of Toby and Andy halted their conversation. They were walking cautiously close together, as if they weren't sure what would happen if they got too near each other. There was something a bit off about their dynamic, but before Sam could think too much about it Andy was motioning him into the kitchen. 

When they were alone she said softly, "I wanted to talk to you for a second." 

"I gathered that," he said. 

She bit her lip. "I just wanted to tell you that everything's good. I mean really good. I'm not just saying that." 

"Did something happen?" he asked, his brow furrowed. 

"Sort of." She shook off his question and took a step back toward the living room. "You'll - you'll hear. But I wanted to tell you, it's fine. No, not fine, great." He was suspicious, but Andy's tone was truly happy, not a false note in it. She seemed nervous, but honestly all right. He followed her back out of the kitchen. 

Toby, Josh, and Donna were gathered in a corner of the room and they seemed to be waiting for him and Andy. Sam's eyebrows raised when Toby reached out a hand to Andy, and she took it. After glancing over his shoulder to see whether anyone else was listening, Toby said calmly, "Andy and I are getting remarried." 


	8. Epiphany 8

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Sam fidgeted in his new suit; it was an excellent cut and excellent material and it was a little stiff. Across the room, standing in line behind brand-new Senator Vincent from Kansas, Andy looked radiant in the suit Nola and Donna had chosen for her. They had come up with something in a beautiful dark green that set her apart from the more drab colors on the other senators and made her hair and skin glow. She looked far too young to be a senator, especially when the new Majority Leader shook her hand and she beamed for the benefit of CNN and the Boston Globe photographer. 

There were all manner of official events surrounding the swearing-in of the new senators, including a White House reception during which Andy, not to mention Sam and Toby, had to be polite to the president, vice president, and press secretary. With all that finally behind them, Andy's entire staff, along with friends, spouses, and children, crowded her new offices for pizza and dissection of the day. 

Sam sat with Donna, stuffed onto an armchair not intended for two. Not, of course, that many armchairs were intended for two, but the office didn't have nearly enough furniture for the number of people trying to be in it at once. Sam had finally worked out a tentative system where he sat very far back in the chair with his legs off to the side, so Donna could have the front corner of the seat. When she was sitting like this she had a barely-discernable stomach appearing. She was on approximately her fourth glass of water of the evening; her doctor had stressed the importance of hydration and she was taking him very seriously. 

"They look good," Donna mused, watching Andy and Toby across the room. She was chatting with Nola and her husband; he was saying little, just watching his soon-to-be-former-ex-wife. He had his typical Andy-inspired half-smile on his face, and a very atypical lack of a drink in his hands despite the array of alcoholic beverages spread throughout the office. Someone must have made a harmless joke at Toby's expense; everyone smiled and Andy dropped a hand for the briefest moment onto his shoulder. 

"Yes, they do," Sam agreed. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. "I'll trade you a backrub for a sip of your water." 

Donna laughed and tipped the glass toward him, nearly enough for him to drink from it without using his hands. When he handed it back, he said, "Turn." 

"Really?" she asked almost giddily, turning her back on him. 

"Yes. You're holding your shoulders funny." 

"You're good," she said as he gently massaged her lower back. Then she yelped. 

"Sorry," he said. 

"That's okay. That's the same spot that got sore when I was carrying Andrea. Must be where all the weight pulls." 

"All the weight," he repeated, rolling his eyes. "Says the skinniest pregnant woman in the world." 

"Bite me." 

"You speak to your child with that mouth?" 

She only grinned and leaned back against his hands. "Look at Josh," she said. 

He did, and laughed. Josh was trying to carry on a conversation with two of Andy's aides, one transplant from her Congressional office and one new hire, but he had little Andrea on his hip and was surrounded by adolescent girls. "His fan club gets younger every day," Sam cracked. 

Donna's hand rested on her stomach, seemingly in response to his comment. "We had an ultrasound yesterday." 

"Yeah?" With one hand he began rubbing her back again, gently, without any real goal. "How is everything?" 

"Good." She smiled more to herself than to him. "We decided to find out the sex this time. It's another girl." 

"Hey." He grinned and squeezed her shoulder. "That's great. Josh said you were kind of hoping for a girl." 

"Yeah. I think it'll be nice for them to be so close. They can, you know, borrow each other's clothes." He stopped rubbing her back, and she took hold of his hand as a thank-you. "We're going to name her after my mother. Cecilia." 

"Pretty." He laced his fingers through hers. "I'm so happy for you both." 

She turned now to look at him. "I know you are." Her hand brushed against his cheek lightly. "Think Ainsley would like to be a godmother?" 

"I know she'd love it. Are you having four godparents again?" 

"Oh, yeah. Everything's a party in the Lyman house." She looked up and smiled. "Hey, speak of the devil." 

"Were you?" asked a pleasantly accented voice from the doorway. Sam looked over and Ainsley waved at him, then ducked into the office as though trying to elude the FBI. "Think anybody saw me come in?" she joked as she came over to him and Donna. 

"I'm pretty sure they started bugging your office when you got all excited over Andy's committee assignments," Donna laughed. 

"Well, I'm glad she got what she wanted." Ainsley somehow located a folding chair and dragged it over beside them. "Long day, huh?" 

Sam and Donna looked quickly at each other as if deciding who should answer. "Well, Sam was actually working," Donna said. 

"Yeah, but Donna's - you know, in a delicate condition," he countered. 

"The ceremony was nice - what I saw of it on C-SPAN," Donna said. 

"I watched it too," Ainsley replied. "Loved her suit." 

"Wanna hear a secret?" Donna said teasingly. She leaned forward, one hand on her mildly expanding stomach, and whispered, "Off the rack. *Ann Taylor.*" 

"No!" Ainsley whispered back. Donna nodded solemnly and they both burst out laughing. 

"I'm trapped," Sam whimpered quietly. 

Ainsley turned an appraising eye on him. "Don't worry. I think you'd look good in Ann Taylor." 

He reached out to give her a pretend shove, but he had to disentangle his hand from the corner of the armchair first, and so she managed to catch it coming. She wrapped her hand firmly around his and held it up in the air, smiling into his eyes. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam had a date for Valentine's Day, albeit an unusual one. Donna had made arrangements that made his head spin, scheduling out the day with an exactness that he admired and feared all at the same time. They were having a birthday party for Andrea at noon; then he was taking her back to his place from five to eight so that Josh and Donna could also have a Valentine's Day dinner. They would be able to pick her up in time for Sam to go out in the evening; as far as Josh and Donna were concerned, they'd rather have an early dinner anyway and get some actual sleep. 

Sam was sitting in the living room with his goddaughter on his lap, listening while she explained the plot of a Lifetime movie. At least, that's what he assumed she was saying; one hand was pointing at the television and there was an extremely intense and intelligent expression on her face. She had learned to mimic the tones of adult conversation, if not the words, and her voice rose and fell in normal sentence patterns as she babbled. 

When he looked up, Donna was standing over them. "You look beautiful," he said, getting to his feet and tucking Andrea against his shoulder. She was wearing a plain navy blue sheath dress that allowed room for the baby and heightened the effect of her second-trimester glow. She was still fastening one earring as she stood before them, and she blushed a tiny bit at his compliment. "Thank you," she said, smiling warmly. 

"Mommy!" Andrea announced remarkably clearly, reaching out a hand. 

"Yes, doesn't Mommy look pretty?" Sam said. 

"She certainly does," Josh replied, entering the living room with his coat on and Donna's over his shoulder. He placed one hand on Sam's shoulder and the other on his daughter's head. "You get the carseat hooked up okay?" 

"Yeah, we're all set." His tone changed and he turned and talked to Andrea instead of her father. "We have the diaper bag, and the pajamas, and the snack, and the cup with the little lid, and the teddy bear, and 'Goodnight, Moon,' and there's apple juice in my fridge and cartoons on the digital cable, and there's a child pulling my hair extremely hard." He reached up and disentangled Andrea's fingers. "Ow, honey." 

"Okay." Josh held out Donna's coat for her, then reached for Andrea. "I'll help you with her coat, and we can all take off." 

Sam and Andrea had grown quite accustomed to each other over the year of her life, and there were no longer any tears when she came to his apartment. He had babyproofed the place as soon as she was old enough to motor around, and she loved flopping on her back on his enormous soft couch. He had even developed a method of keeping her safely propped on a kitchen chair while he fed her, a method which involved three scarves and a pile of throw pillows. 

Tonight he kept up a running dialogue while he carefully heated her dinner. She replied occasionally to his statements with little comments of her own, punctuated with sharp raps of her thick plastic spoon. "That's right," he said, checking on her quickly before returning to the stove. "Senator Burke has got it in for Aunt Andy. But don't worry. Aunt Andy has very important friends." 

Andrea's next tiny one-syllabled sound was very like a question. When he looked at her she had her head cocked to one side and a hand pulling at the neck of her shirt. 

"Yes, you look very pretty," he said, turning off the heat under her meatball-free Spaghetti-Os. "Blue is definitely your color." He poked one finger into the pot. "Perfect. Fine Tuscan cuisine, coming up." She looked a little skeptical. 

He sat down at the table distractedly, putting a plastic bowl half-full in front of her and prying the spoon from her hands. "So. Anybody talked to you much about this sister thing yet?" She gave him a quizzical look as the first mouthful went in. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I have a sister, you know. It's a very important endeavor. You have to take care of her, and make sure she doesn't leave the house looking like a dork. This is very serious." He looked up with the next spoonful ready. "Probably want to get the Spaghetti-O off your face if we're going for cool." 

Andrea dozed in the middle of Crossfire, before they got to the viewer emails. He looked at his watch, careful not to disturb her in his arms. Josh and Donna would be there in twenty minutes to pick her up. He hadn't wanted to mention to them that he didn't technically have a date for the rest of the night; he was hoping they wouldn't ask specific questions about his plans. Truth be told, he had avoided thinking about it. Last Valentine's Day he had been with Robin, and this year he'd mostly wanted it to slip by without his noticing. It hadn't worked. 

He very carefully picked up the phone and dialed, unspeakably relieved when Ainsley answered. "Hey." 

"Hey, yourself. Andrea still there?" 

He glanced down and smiled to himself. "Yeah. She's asleep. And I didn't even have to break out the bunny song." 

"The - bunny song?" she asked, laughter shaking her voice. 

"Trust me, you do not want to laugh at me." 

"Yes, I do." 

He shook his head and shifted Andrea higher up in the crook of his arm. "Have plans for tonight?" 

She hesitated for a moment. "Actually, yeah. I have a date." 

"You do?" His voice got a little high, and Andrea stirred against his chest. He rubbed her stomach to soothe her down and murmured, "Sorry, baby." 

"You were talking to her, right?" 

"Don't mess with me, Hayes. Who's the guy?" 

"Huh?" 

"Who's the guy?" 

He could hear the expression on her face as clearly as he would have been able to see it had they been in the same room. "You suddenly have the right to details about the guys I date?" 

"Let me think - yes." 

She sighed. "He's a doctor." 

His eyebrows shot up so far it almost gave him a headache. "Oh my God. He's not a lawyer? Or a politician in any way?" 

"No," she said, sounding every bit as surprised as he was. "He's an emergency physician at Georgetown." 

"How on earth did you . . ." 

She sounded extremely sheepish. "I drove my neighbor to the ER last week. She sprained her ankle." 

"And you picked up her doctor?" 

"No. Her doctor was about sixty. I picked up the doctor of the patient in the next curtain." 

"I think I'm proud of you." 

"Anyway. I'm meeting him at nine." 

"Where?" 

"Tryst." 

"Trendy." 

"Oh, yes." She sighed. "So." 

"Good luck." Andrea stirred again as he reached to hang up the phone, and he let her grab onto his finger. "I don't mean to judge her, but don't pick up strange doctors, okay, little girl? For me?" 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam was watching the beginning of 'The American President' for the second time when his phone rang. He had the sudden bizarre urge to answer it 'Seaborn's House of Love.' "Hello?" he said calmly. 

"Call me in five minutes. On my cell phone. Please." 

He settled back against the cushions. "The doctor's a charmer, huh?" 

"I'm begging you." 

"Five minutes." 

"Thank you." She hung up, and he turned down the volume on the TV. When the next commercial break was over he dialed her number. She let it ring five times before picking it up. 

"So what's the excuse?" he asked. 

"Josh? Are you okay?" she said. 

"All right," Sam said into the receiver. "Are we having a medical emergency?" 

"Oh my God. Did you try calling Sam? I don't think he had a date for tonight." 

Very cute, he thought. "I'm hanging up in nine seconds, funny girl." 

"Of course I'll come right over and watch Andrea. See you in a minute." With a click the line went dead. Sam hung up the phone and turned back to the quiet TV. "Okay," he said out loud. 

The phone rang again about ten minutes later. "Where are you?" he asked without waiting to see who it was. 

"In my car." 

"You ditched the doctor?" 

"Yes." 

"Ainsley, Ainsley, Ainsley." 

"Yes." 

"Where are you going now?" 

She sighed. In the background on her end he could hear the traffic in Dupont Circle. "I don't know." 

"Want to meet me at the pub and tell me about it?" 

"Yes," she said, sounding grateful. "And thank you for not making fun of my date." 

"Oh, I'm saving that for in person." 

She was already seated at a corner table by the time he arrived at their usual after-work bar. The waitress came over as soon as he sat down - presumably she had been watching for Ainsley's companion - and they both ordered fairly strong drinks. "So," he said when the waitress had gone, "what was the matter with the doctor?" 

"Nothing, exactly," she said, slumping back in her chair. "He wasn't creepy or anything, there just wasn't - a lot there. Smart, but . . . I don't know what to say. He was a little flat." 

He frowned and took a sip of the drink that had arrived in record time. "What?" she asked, seeing the look on his face. 

Sam sighed. "I just - that must happen to you a lot, right?" 

"What?" 

"I would think a lot of people would seem flat to you." 

She matched his frown. "I'm not sure what you mean by that." 

He shrugged. "You're - you. Your head runs in circles most people couldn't dream of catching up with, and you're - fun. It seems to me that a lot of people would seem a little boring in comparison, that's all." 

"I think that may have been nice, somewhere under there," she said, reaching for her own drink. 

"It was trying, anyway." 

She took a long drink before setting down her glass. "Why did you call, earlier?" 

"I need a reason to call you?" 

"Let me think - yes." 

He paused for a second or two, until he realized he was holding his breath. "Well," he said, letting it out. "I don't know. My sole companion for the evening was asleep." 

She held his gaze for just long enough for him to feel probed, in some way. Then she evidently decided to let him off the hook. "Okay." 

"I was lonely." 

Her eyes flickered up to his face and then dropped to the table. "Yeah?" 

"I had the baby, and she's great, and . . ." 

"So you called me?" Her brow furrowed in bemused suspicion. "Exactly how desperate were you feeling?" 

"Shut up." He dipped one finger in his drink and flung a miniscule drop in her direction. "Do I have to remind you who called who, begging to be saved from her date?" 

She opened her mouth, then shook her head. "I - am on my fourth drink of the evening, and I honestly have nothing to say." 

"Okay." He drained his glass and waved away the waitress when she would have brought another one. "Did Donna ask you . . ." 

"To be a godmother? Yeah." Her smile grew warm and she trailed her fingertip through the condensation on her glass. "I can't wait to see the new baby. May is a long way off." 

He nodded. "Andrea was a year old today." 

"That's right. She's growing up so fast." 

"When she was born, and Andy and I rushed to the hospital, Toby called us all grandparents. I think he was right." 

"Sam?" 

She didn't have to say anything else. He exhaled and smiled with one side of his mouth. "Yeah, I know." 

When he walked her to her car she leaned in to kiss his cheek, and he pulled her into a long embrace. They stood holding each other tightly for a few moments, and finally he pressed her closer, kissed her hair, and released her. She was still holding his waist, and he said slowly, "You know I . . ." 

She smiled up at him. "Yeah. Me, too." She looked down at their hands and squeezed his fingers before pulling away to open the car. "Goodnight." 


	9. Epiphany 9

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

The wedding was a small, intimate affair. There was no hope of avoiding the eye of the press, but they could at least avoid having crowds of people actually at the ceremony. The justice of the peace was a friend of Leo's - both Andy and Toby had agreed that a religious ceremony was not necessary. As Andy pointed out, "We never had the first marriage annulled, so in the eyes of the Catholic Church at least, we're still married anyway." 

Toby was wearing his yarmulke nonetheless (Josh pointed out that it also had the effect of covering his bald spot for the few photos; Toby was less than amused) and a Jesuit friend of Andy's from Boston was in attendance to offer an informal blessing. Andy was wearing a very light blue dress that hung just past her knees, and Donna had curled her hair back more elaborately than Andy could have managed on her own. They had become even closer friends since Donna had come to work full-time for the new senator, and it was Donna - her body burgeoning now with the new child - who stood on Andy's left side for the ceremony. Her husband flanked Toby on the other side. 

Sam stood in the second row, behind Andy's aging mother and her brother Frank and his family. He had Ainsley and C.J. on either side of him, and was bouncing Andrea in his arms. Fortunately, the ceremony was fairly short, because Andrea was beginning to squirm. 

"Here," C.J. whispered after Andrea had punctuated the justice's words with a particularly loud little squall, "let me have her." Sam gladly handed over the fidgeting child, who was growing quite heavy by this time, and C.J. held her gently against her shoulder. "What's the matter, little bug?" she murmured in Andrea's ear. "Tired of all this standing still? Me, too." Sam had to stifle a smile. 

The wedding went off flawlessly: no one thought of any reasons why the couple should not be joined, or rather rejoined, both Josh and Donna managed to produce the rings on time, and Toby kissed Andy a bit more self-consciously than he had at their first wedding. The rings were the same ones they had always worn, but they had taken them off and put them on each other all over again. Andy had gone back to wearing her original engagement ring, which she had taken off years ago, beneath the wedding band. It was a beautiful setting, a small, tasteful diamond flanked by even smaller sapphires, which looked exactly like something Toby would have chosen in 1992. 

Andy was running her fingers over the little cluster of jewels as she sat with Sam and Donna in a corner of her living room later. They had decided to follow the wedding with a small dinner at Toby and Andy's new house in Georgetown, just the family members and the few friends who had been at the ceremony. Andy sighed, her fingertips still tracing over her ring, and looked a little wistfully at Donna. "You know, when he gave me this ring, I was twenty-five," she said. "By the time I was your age, I was divorced. Quite a track record." 

"By the time you were my age, you were also a second-term Congresswoman," Donna pointed out. "It hasn't been a total wash." 

Andy laughed. "Professionally, I would have to say no." 

"He always stayed with you," Sam said softly. "Maybe you had to get divorced to make this time better." 

"Maybe," Andy almost whispered. "I wonder sometimes - Frank said, yesterday, that he thought I was too much younger than Toby, and that he saw me as a child when we got married. He thought we were better now because I got to be an adult while we were apart. I can't help thinking - maybe we would have stayed married if we had married later." 

Donna shrugged. "You can't know that for sure. Maybe you would have needed time apart anyway." 

"But after all, you and Josh got all the bugs ironed out before you got married, and you're doing great." 

"Took us about eight years," Donna pointed out. "Besides, I bet you and Toby were doing great in your third year of marriage." 

"I don't think you and Josh will ever have the problems we did," Andy said quietly. 

"No, I hope not," Donna replied in the same tone. 

"Hey," Sam interjected. "Wedding. Happy. Cut it out, you two." 

"Sorry," both women said wryly. 

"Donna, when you have the new baby, I can have this one, right?" C.J. asked, coming to join them with a hysterically giggling Andrea dangling under her arm. 

"Oh, absolutely," Donna replied, holding up her arms for her daughter. "Our ultimate goal is to have enough to supply all our friends." Andrea came happily into her mother's lap, dancing on her knees with tiny patent-leather shoes while Donna supported her arms. "Are you having fun with Aunt C.J., baby?" 

C.J. dragged over a chair and joined their little circle. "I wish I could see her more often. She doubles in size every time I get up here." 

"You could always move back," Donna said casually, her eyes still focused on her daughter. "Give CNN thirty days' notice, be here in time for Cecilia." 

"First of all, your children are unpredictable," C.J. pointed out. "I wouldn't be surprised if Cecilia showed up tomorrow. Secondly - I like CNN." 

"And you're doing a fine job," Sam said, patting her knee. 

"Why do I feel like a kindergartener when you say that?" 

"There's something I've always wanted to ask you," Andy said, reaching out with one hand to take Andrea's fingers. 

"What's that?" 

"Is Jeff Greenfield cute in person?" 

"Very," C.J. replied as they all laughed. "Hey," she said, looking up over Andy's head. 

"Hey," Toby replied. He placed both hands on his wife's shoulders. "Josh is caught between Frank and Ainsley." 

"Oh, no," Andy said, breaking out in laughter all over again. "If there are two people in the world I wouldn't want to be between . . ." 

"Frank," Toby said, his thumbs tracing gentle circles over Andy's skin, "is the Boston Democrat personified." 

Sam turned his head and grinned at the sight of Andy's tall redheaded brother backed into a corner by their resident conservative. Josh was indeed between them, looking halfway between laughter and flight. All three seemed completely unfazed by Frank's six- and seven-year-old boys running around their legs. 

As the hour grew later, the present members of the Ziegler and Wyatt families departed for their hotels - both groups had early flights out in the morning, and Frank's kids were getting rammy. Josh and Donna rounded up their baby and left after they had all shared an emotional speakerphone conversation with the Bartlets and Leo, who was visiting them in New Hampshire while the former president recovered from a fall down the stairs and a broken collarbone. The remaining members of the party wound up at a bar around the corner from the house: Andy and Toby, Sam, C.J., Ainsley, Nola and her husband, a handful of Andy's older staffers (the ones who weren't completely intimidated by the idea of going to a bar with their boss to celebrate her marriage), and Father Bob, who was staying in Washington for a few more days. 

By the third round C.J. was flirting with Steve Wright, the lawyer in charge of Andy's Judiciary Committee work. Toby had stopped drinking after the second round - Sam couldn't quite decide whether or not to ask Andy about that later - and was leaning back against his wife's shoulder while she chatted with Nola and another staffer. Sam definitely had the feeling he wouldn't have been doing that without the aid of the two scotches and the wine at the party, or in other company. 

It was nearly one when Ainsley started to lean on his shoulder with her eyes closed, and he wrapped an arm around her and whispered, "Long day, huh?" 

Without opening her eyes she grumbled, "Donna and I were at Andy's at eight." 

"I didn't realize you were there, too." 

"Mmm-hmm." She shifted against him. "I was the emergency backup hairdresser. I wasn't needed, but I got to dress Andrea while Donna messed with the curling iron." 

"Well, you did a good job." The day's buildup of alcohol was beginning to affect his head, and already his tongue had gone numb. He reached up a hand to stroke back her hair. "You're not going to drive, are you?" 

"Oh no," she said, still not moving. "Cab." 

"Want to walk me home, and then I'll put you in one?" 

"Sure," she said sleepily. 

"After all, the streets of Georgetown are perilous on a Saturday night." 

"Yeah, you might get accosted by drunk, horny undergrads." 

He laughed. "Hey guys? Ainsley and I are going to take off before she falls asleep on the table." 

Andy and C.J. were the only ones who reacted with anything more than bland "goodnights." Andy gave him a suspicious, questioning glance while C.J. smirked and leaned back in her chair. He ignored them both as he guided Ainsley's arms into her coat - which was a complicated endeavor, considering he was no more coordinated than she was at that point. 

They walked slowly through the Georgetown streets, not talking much \- mostly because they were both intoxicated enough that they were primarily focused on walking in a straight line. He glanced over occasionally to watch her hair blow in the late-night wind, illuminated by the moonlight and street lamps. By the time they got to his block he had his hand wrapped around hers, and she came into the apartment with him for just a few moments. 

Which turned out to be more than just a few moments, as on impulse he backed her up against the wall as soon as the door had closed behind them. She wasn't fighting him, and within seconds he had his lips on hers and his fingers tangled in her hair. His mouth was still numbed by the alcohol and so he kissed her hard, the sensation barely making its way through the unfeeling haze. Whether he could feel the kiss or not, however, the rest of his body was certainly not numb. Her hands were under his jacket and cold on his back, and he fought to get her coat off and touch the bare skin at her shoulders. 

Her eyes had drifted closed and she was leaning half against him and half against the wall as he pressed closer and ran his lips from her mouth over her jaw and down to her neck. His mouth on her sensitive skin elicited a quiet moan from her, and she pulled his shirt out of his pants and found her way to his bare back. She whispered, "Sam . . . Sam," several times as he trailed kisses down from her neck, pulling the loose front of her dress down to reach between her breasts, and then suddenly she yelped, "Oh my God, Sam!" She jolted back so fast that she hit her head on the wall, and pushed him firmly away from her with hands well-placed on his shoulders. 

He straightened up quickly and looked down at her with eyes hooded and dilated from alcohol and lust. "Oh God," he repeated. 

Her hands were still on his shoulders, and her tone was not angry. "What the hell are we doing?" 

He closed his eyes and tilted forward to lean his forehead against hers. "I have no idea. I'm sorry." 

"It's a bad idea," she whispered. 

"I know." He sighed and wound his arms around her waist. "This is becoming something of a pattern for me." 

"Huh?" She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. 

He winced, knowing that had been a serious tactical error. Besides the fact that this was not the time for a serious discussion. He sighed again heavily. "I kissed Andy," he muttered quietly. 

"What?" She pushed back from him a little, which was difficult because she was still up against the wall. "Today?" 

"No," he said hastily. "Before they decided to get married. Back in October." 

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raised slightly. "You didn't tell me about that." 

"'I kissed my boss in her office?' I didn't tell *anyone* about that, Ainsley." 

"Yeah, I guess not." She frowned. "Do you have feelings for her?" 

"You asked me that once before." 

"I didn't." 

"You hinted." 

"I think I was kidding." 

"Well." He leaned his forehead on her shoulder. "I don't. I mean, a little crush, maybe, but nothing real. I just - I'm drawn to her, I guess, but it's not really romantic. I think most people are kind of drawn to her." 

"Yeah," Ainsley agreed. Her hands were rubbing his back gently now. 

He straightened up and took her face between his hands. "You're tired \- do you want to stay here?" 

Ainsley took only a second to wonder what he meant by that, before replying, "Yeah." 

His hand lightly squeezed her waist as he led her back to the bedroom. "You want me to sleep on the couch?" 

"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered. "We're adults and we're both going to pass out in three minutes." 

"Good point." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

He woke up to a beam of sunlight shining directly in his eyes. Without opening them, he turned his head to the side and buried his face in the pillow. He was warm, and his bed smelled slightly like perfume in addition to the usual post-bar smells of smoke and alcohol. As he stretched a little, the fingers of one hand scrunched in the soft t-shirt of his that Ainsley was wearing. He had his arm draped over her, and her head rested close to his shoulder. 

He opened his eyes slowly, careful not to move enough to wake her. Her dress from the wedding was draped neatly over the chair in the corner, and various pieces of his suit seemed to be hanging from the closet door. He turned his head a little and smiled. In sleep she looked much younger, like the twenty-something he had first encountered in the Capitol Beat studio. The sunlight caught each strand of her hair and made it shine. He very gently rubbed her back enough to wake her. 

"Sam," she murmured without opening her eyes, nestling closer to him and to the pillow. "What time is it?" Her voice was groggy with sleep and muffled in his shirt. 

He glanced over at the clock. "Eight. You want to go back to sleep?" 

"Yes." Then she pushed herself slowly to a sitting position. "Wait. Hang on." Blue eyes fluttering in the morning light, she pushed the blankets off her legs and swung herself out of the bed, padding over to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. He took advantage of her absence to stretch himself over the bed, feeling each muscle in his arms and legs expand and release. 

When she returned she gestured him back over to his side, and he rolled himself with mock grouchiness off of her space. She settled back into his arms casually, and he pulled the blankets over both of them. 

When they finally awoke for real, it was almost noon. They managed not to talk much while taking turns in the bathroom, but once she had emerged, clad again in her dress from the previous day, he touched her arm. "Let me drive you home to change, and then have lunch with me." 

When they were seated over sandwiches and black coffee in a quiet restaurant near Chevy Chase, he looked at her a trifle nervously and said, "So. I'm sorry, again, about last night." 

She shrugged. "It's really okay." 

"I just want to - I don't want you to think I'll come on to you every time I have a drink around you." 

"I don't think that." 

He messed with his sandwich for a moment. "I just don't want this to be . . ." 

She sighed and brushed her hair behind her ears. "Look, the reason we've been friends for so long is that it's never been weird between us. Let's not start now. Let's just talk about something else, okay?" 

"Okay," he said with a measurable degree of relief. He picked up a pickle and bit the end off. "What were you and Andy's brother talking about?" 

"Welfare," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"Bet that was fun." 

"Well, I was trying to be tactful about it. But my whole point is that it should come with some kind of incentives for welfare parents not to have more children until they do something about their employment situation -" 

"I like the PC way you said 'parents' there, rather than welfare mothers." 

"You noticed that, did you? Anyway, so there I am trying to talk about people having families bigger than they can afford to support - which obviously is a sensitive subject anyway, because clearly people are allowed to have as many children as they want, and we only run into a problem when they expect to have as many children as they want and have someone else pay for them - and meanwhile I'm trying to count the number of little Wyatts running around my feet. I mean, obviously Frank and his family are far from on welfare and they're supporting their kids just fine, but I didn't want to sound like I was knocking big families." 

He shook his head. "I think you lost me about halfway through that. But your welfare views always . . ." 

"Make you want to throw things?" 

"Pretty much, yeah." 

"I'm not saying we shouldn't help people who can't help themselves. I'm just saying we should give them training and incentives so that they *can* better support themselves, and maybe talk to them about not having nine kids when the taxpayers are feeding all of them. It's not about needing help, it's about responsibility." 

He groaned. "Can we get off welfare now, please?" 

She grinned. "That's the question, isn't it?" 

"Oh, shut up." 

She took a bite of her sandwich, looking rather pleased with herself. 

"So," he said, deciding a subject change was definitely in order, "Andrea's moved on to recognizable sentences." 

"Has she?" Ainsley asked, sounding delighted. "She was pretty quiet yesterday." 

"I had her the other night, and while we were having dinner she pointed at me and said, 'Sam eating.'" 

Ainsley laid a hand over her heart. "How cute." 

"She's also mastered 'go outside' and 'no bath.' 

"She's a smart one. Is she talking about the baby?" 

"When I picked her up the other day I got a 'Mommy baby,' complete with a little point in Donna's general direction. I think they've tried to explain that there's a new baby in Mommy's stomach, but obviously nobody's really sure how much a one-year-old is getting." 

"Does she understand what 'baby' means?" 

"They keep holding her up to the mirror, and then showing her pictures of other babies. She either gets it, or thinks there's another Andrea somewhere." 

Ainsley smiled warmly. "I can't wait to see her with the baby." 

"Me either. I think she'll do okay. I keep talking to her about having a sister, and I think Donna is, too - although of course that's another hard concept. After checking with Donna, I took a shot at telling her that a sister was like Mommy and Aunt Andy. They can sort out the details when she's older." 

"You think she understood you?" 

He shrugged. "Who can tell?" 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Some power must have understood that Donna had an important political job and needed predictability, or else Cecilia wasn't as anxious to arrive as her sister, because this second pregnancy proceeded without a hitch. By mid-April Sam and Donna were sitting in meetings with important lobbying groups intent on pushing through a resolution to declare the president without power to invade any Middle Eastern country without approval from Congress. The various peace organizations were beginning to stir again over the possibility of full-scale war, so narrowly averted the first time. 

Group after group paraded through the offices of each individual member of the foreign relations committee, trying to convince them that war was inhumane and unjustified. America was overreaching in the Middle East, invading foreign cultures and expecting them to conform to Western ideas . . . none of it was new to Sam. Because of her stance on the Muslim world when in Congress, Andy was a prime target for most of the groups. They considered her election to the Senate to be a sign that they might get somewhere. 

Several of the groups were polite and made excellent points; several others were not and did not. There was the full range of lobbyist talent, from the brilliant and well-informed to the angry rhetoric-spouters who couldn't explain their own points when pressed. Today's group was particularly annoying, if only because they kept casting pointed looks at Donna's stomach and repeating things like, "Don't you want to make the world safe for your children?" and "What if it were your children being starved and bombed?" Both of which were, of course, good points, but Sam - and, he gathered from the expression on her face, Donna - found it deplorable that in a professional meeting they would play on the emotions of a pregnant woman as a political strategy. 

"So, Ms. Gaithers," Sam said, trying to keep hold of his feelings, "tell us what you would like the government to do rather than go to war with any countries in the Middle East." 

Ms. Gaithers was about twenty-three and couldn't have been out of college long. Her blonde hair was cut close to her head and she wore a long brown skirt with her linen shirt and strings of beads around her neck. Sam was fixated on the two pins attached to the strap of her shoulder bag, which was sitting on the floor. One said, "I'll be Pro-Life when you Get Out of my Womb and Start Worrying about the Babies You're Killing in Iraq." The grammar had him twitching for several minutes. The other pin read, "You're Right - I'm Not Wearing A Bra." Sam wondered briefly exactly when professionalism had gone out the window. 

She responded to his question by spreading her hands on the table as though she were about to deliver an oration. "We would *like,*" she said, emphasizing the word as though it were somehow obscene, "for the government to do something that doesn't involve the strategic starvation of women and children." 

Donna looked up from her notes, which Sam suspected included a grocery list and the slowly-shortening list of middle names that went well with Cecilia. "Are you under the impression that's what we're doing?" she asked. 

"What do you think? We're deliberately making sure that food doesn't reach the people of any country we don't like, so that the people will be so beaten down they won't revolt against us. I think we've learned that strategy doesn't work very well. They're not so beaten down that they can't show some resistance to American force, but when they strike back at our so-called peacekeeping forces and our embassies, we call them terrorists and make sure their wives and children get even less food." 

Neither Sam nor Donna was able to speak for nearly a full minute, despite the fact that both of them had been listening to similar rhetoric for the better part of a month. Finally Sam took several deep breaths and said, "You didn't answer my question." 

"Huh?" the lobbyist said rather rudely. 

"I asked what you would like the government to do as an alternative to going to war. You haven't answered that question." 

She heaved an enormous sigh. "I would like for politicians like you to stop twisting words into rhetoric and evading your reponsibility by turning it on the people. And I would like the government to back out of the Middle East and leave that part of the world alone like we're supposed to. Their culture has to be allowed to flourish without the interference of the American Big Brother. Vonnegut was right about the effects of increased government power, and we all look at those predictions and assume they're about other countries, never ourselves." 

"First of all, Vonnegut didn't write - never mind." Sam sat up straighter. "So your idea of how to solve the problems in the Middle East is for us to just \- leave?" 

"We need to learn how to stay out of where we don't belong," she replied. 

"So their culture can flourish, along with their stock of nuclear weapons?" 

"Middle Eastern countries don't have nuclear weapons, they don't have biological weapons, and they have no intention of attacking the United States as long as the United States stops attacking them first and oppressing their people." 

Sam wanted very badly to ask whether Ms. Gaithers had called up the Middle Eastern nations and asked them what their intentions were toward the United States, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he got to his feet, and was matched by a slightly unsteady Donna. "Well, thanks for coming by," he said. "I'll be sure and tell Senator Wyatt your views." *And she'll think I'm kidding.* 

"A word of advice?" the girl said as she stood and picked up her bag. "When you say that, try not to sound like you're lying." 

Sam and Donna glanced at each other with wide eyes, in complete disbelief at this kind of behavior from a national lobbying organization. Donna finally said, "If I could offer you a word of advice - you'll get much further in this game if you learn to be professional." 

Ms. Gaithers cast a long, deliberate look at Donna's swollen stomach and said, "Like you did?" She was gone before Sam could do anything but splutter. 

Sam was fuming by the time he made it back down the hall to the main office, and for once Donna was right with him. He slammed his way back to his desk with Donna in tow and picked up the phone, barely glancing at the business card in his hand as he dialed. "Ruth Carlyle," he said angrily into the phone. "Tell her it's Sam Seaborn, Senator Andrea Wyatt's chief of staff." He waited, tapping his foot impatiently. 

He was important enough that the head of the organization actually came to the phone. "Mr. Seaborn?" she said pleasantly. "It's a welcome surprise to hear from you. I've been remiss in offering my congratulations to Senator Wyatt on her marriage." 

Sam fought hard to control his voice. "I'll pass that along to her. We met with a few of your representatives today, Ms. Carlyle." 

"Did you?" She sounded legitimately innocent. "I suppose I knew we had some people talking up the members of Foreign Relations; I didn't really know they were speaking with your office today." 

"What, exactly, were they supposed to say?" 

Ruth Carlyle exhaled for a moment. "For the exact details you'd have to talk to Marnie Willis; she handles the specific Hill outreach issues. Generally, though - they all get a handbook of arguments for and against the particular policy, and a certain amount of . . . strategy." 

"The group today was talking about military force in the Middle East." 

"Yes," she replied, "most of our other issues deal with the natural resources committee." 

"The young woman who was leading them," Sam said cautiously, wanting to sound sensibly angry and not prudish or overreacting, "- is there a dress code for when they come to the Hill?" 

"Business casual," Ruth said offhandedly. 

"Does that include prominently displayed pins telling the reader that the wearer is not wearing a bra?" 

"What?" 

"Your 'representative' was wearing . . ." 

"She wasn't." 

"Oh, she was. But don't worry - that kind of paled in comparison to her accusations that the American government was deliberately starving women and children in, quote, 'countries we don't like,' that we deserve having our troops attacked and our embassies bombed in legitimate resistance to American force, not to mention the part where she called me a liar and insinuated that Donna Moss - I don't even know what she was insinuating, something about Donna's pregnancy and her rise in politics." 

"What?" Ruth said again, this time in decibels that hurt his ears. "She said *what* about Donna Moss?" 

"It was hard to tell, really, but she made some kind of association between Donna's professionalism and the fact that she had gotten pregnant in the process." 

Ruth Carlyle sounded very much as though she might be speaking through her teeth. "Donna Moss is the young woman who's married to Josh Lyman? They had a little girl last year? It was in all the papers - the baby was early, and President Bartlet was quoted in the Washington Post as giving his blessing to the family, etcetera?" 

"That's her," Sam replied, glancing up at Donna, who was sitting on his desk. 

"One of my representatives made a comment about her pregnancy?" 

"Yup." This was going to be even better than he'd hoped. 

Ruth was apparently trying to decide between fury and panic. "You know this isn't the kind of thing that I would ever encourage - I mean, policy is one thing, but . . ." 

"I know that, Ruth," he said in a tone that was growing more congenial. "Policy is one thing. And I've met with your lobby- uh, representatives before, and they've always been nothing but professional. And I embrace the hiring of young people, passionate young people, I really do. But they should be able to articulate the position of your organization, which, by the way, this young woman was not able to do, and they should learn the simple rules of professional behavior. I have met with very young men and women who have been able to remain honest about their views while still behaving like - well, like adults." 

"What was her name?" Ruth asked, and her tone was dangerous. 

"Beth Gaithers." He felt a little bad about the fact that he might get this girl fired, but honestly, if anyone deserved it, she did. 

Ruth Carlyle hung up with a promise to "take care of it." He looked up at Donna and asked, "Am I a bad Democrat?" 

"No, honey," she said, patting his shoulder. "It's okay to have standards." She carefully slid off his desk. "On the upside, I've solved our name problem." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. What do you think of Cecilia Ruth?" 

He beamed at her. "Perfect." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The ringing phone woke Sam from a deep sleep. He fumbled for it in the dark, thinking that if this was a crank call he was going to kill people. "Hello?" he mumbled. 

"Sam? Sorry to wake you, buddy." 

The glowing numbers on the clock read 2:34, but Josh sounded a little panicked and Sam was instantly awake. "S'okay," he said, sitting up carefully. "What's the matter?" 

"Can I bring Andrea to your house now? We're going to the hospital." 

Now he was really awake. "It's time?" 

"Yeah. I'm going to drop Donna at the emergency room so they can get her settled as fast as possible, then swing by your place and give you the baby, then go back to be with Donna." 

"Okay," Sam said, getting up and pulling on his robe. "How's Donna doing?" 

"She's all right," Josh said. "I mean, she's in pain and she looks kind of green, but she says it was worse last time." 

"Tell her I love her, okay? I'll be waiting for you and Andrea in the living room." 

After hanging up the phone, Sam wandered into the living room and turned on the television to keep himself awake. Josh must have been speeding like a maniac; Sam was only twenty minutes into a nature program when the buzzer sounded. 

"Everything okay?" he asked immediately as he opened the door. 

Josh was pale and harried, but he didn't look scared. Sam took that as a good sign. "Yup. Donna got taken upstairs right away; it's a slow night and they said she should be all settled in a room by the time I get back. She's breathing right and everything, and she wasn't screaming too much, so . . ." He handed Andrea, who was half-asleep against his shoulder, to Sam. "Here you are. And here's her bag. She might be kind of disoriented when she wakes up in the wrong house . . ." 

"Yeah, I was just going to put her on the bed with me and prop pillows around her," Sam said, cradling the baby against his chest. "That way I'll be right there and she'll see me when she wakes up." 

"Good call." Josh rubbed a hand across his forehead and bent over to kiss his daughter's head. "Bye, baby. You'll be okay with Uncle Sam, and when I see you again you can meet your little sister." 

"You'll call me in the morning, tell me how it's going?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay." Sam grinned. "Go on, go be with Donna. My godchild and I are going to sleep." 

"I think she beat you," Josh said, brushing a hand over Andrea's curls. "Okay. Thanks for this. I'll talk to you in the morning." 

When the door had closed behind Josh, Sam matched his gesture and stroked the little girl's hair. "Come on, honey," he whispered. "Let's get you to bed." 

Sam woke at about seven-thirty and immediately checked on Andrea. She was just beginning to stir in her nest of pillows and one foot waved in the air as she began to stretch. He leaned over and tickled her stomach until she woke up, squealing softly. 

"Hi, Andrea," he said gently as her blue eyes opened. "Hi, baby. It's Uncle Sam." 

She took a moment to focus on him, then gave a small whimper and said, reaching one hand into the air, "Mommy?" 

He carefully lifted her into his arms and let her snuggle into his shirt. "Mommy and Daddy are at the hospital getting ready to bring the new baby home. They went to get your sister, and bring her home for you to meet. Uncle Sam is right here until they get back." He supported her in one arm and reached for the phone with the other, still murmuring softly, "You just stay right here with Uncle Sam." 

The phone rang a few times while Andrea babbled quietly. When the message machine kicked in, he said, "Hi, Andy. Josh and Donna went to the hospital in the middle of the night, and they left me Andrea. She and I are going to stay home today and wait for news. I'm leaving another message with Steve, but everything's taken care of for the day. I'll talk to you when I have an update." After leaving a second message with Steve, he turned to the baby wriggling in his arms. 

"All right, baby girl," he said, taking hold of one of her hands. "Let's get some breakfast, huh?" 

By the time they had finished eating, the phone was ringing. "We're done!" Josh announced as soon as he picked up. 

"That was incredibly fast," Sam said. 

"Well, about five and a half hours from the time she first woke up. That's fast, but not unheard-of." 

"So we have a little Cecilia?" 

"We do indeed." Josh was positively exuberant. "She looks nothing like Andrea. Well, from what I can tell looking at the squashy red bundle. But she has dark hair, really dark, and even her eyes look darker. She's bigger than Andrea was, almost eight pounds." 

"Well, she had more time." Andrea banged her spoon, and Sam said, "Would you like to talk to your other daughter?" 

"Yeah! Put her on." 

Sam held the phone to Andrea's ear, and she made excited noises when she heard Daddy's voice. After a few moments Sam pried the receiver from her little fingers and said, "Josh?" 

"Yeah, I'm here." Josh sounded a little teary. 

"Will they let me bring Andrea to Donna's room?" 

"Absolutely. Donna's sleeping, but I thought maybe you could bring Andrea by in the afternoon? I'm going to stay with Donna and probably fall asleep in the visitor's chair." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

When they arrived at the hospital, Donna and Josh were both awake. Donna got teary-eyed and held out her arms when she saw her daughter, and Sam laid her gently on the bed next to Donna's legs. "Hi, baby," she said as Andrea laughed and tried to crawl up her chest. "I missed you. And now you can see your baby sister." Andrea grabbed at the sheet and said, "Mommy!" happily. 

"How was she?" Josh asked Sam. "I didn't even think to ask this morning; I was so out of it." 

"You had good reason," Sam said with a smile. "She was fine. We're buddies, right Andrea?" She responded to his gentle touch with a garbled exclamation of "Sam!" 

Josh got to his feet slowly, one hand on his stiff lower back. "I'll go get Cecilia. She's been in the nursery for a while now." 

When Donna gave a small whimper, Sam lifted Andrea out of her lap. "Come on, sweetheart, Mommy's a little sore." He gave Donna a sympathetic look over Andrea's head. "Ainsley's blowing off work at two and coming to see the baby and hold Andrea for a while - you know, so we can take turns. And Andy's coming later on." 

"Great." 

The word was barely out of Donna's mouth when Josh reentered the room with another tiny bundle cradled in his arms. He looked much more comfortable than he had a year ago with the first bundle, but otherwise Sam had a strong sense of deja vu. "Here we are," he said, holding the pile of blankets down so that Sam and Andrea could see into it. "Here's our Cecilia." 

"Sit on the bed, Josh," Donna directed. "Then you can trade with Sam." 

"'Kay," he said easily, carefully edging his wife's legs aside with one elbow and lowering himself to the bed. He handed the baby off to Donna and reached out his arms to Andrea, so that Donna could give the child to Sam after a little kiss on the head. 

Sam received the baby into his arms with just as much awe as with his first sight of Andrea. "Hello, little baby Cecilia," he whispered, his eyes filling with inexplicable tears. "Hello, angel. Look how sweet you are. Look at those little fingers." He looked up at Josh, Donna, and Andrea. "I can't believe you guys did this twice. I can't believe you made two of these." 

Both Josh and Donna were starting to cry as well, but Andrea was holding out a curious hand to the bundle in Sam's arms. Josh shifted her a little closer so she could see. "There you are, my Andrea. Here's your baby sister. Baby sister Cecilia." 

Andrea's eyes grew big with wonder, and Sam had to laugh. He tilted the baby on his lap a little closer to her sister. "See?" he whispered. "Look how tiny she is. You were that tiny last year, and Uncle Sam came to the hospital and held you just like this. You want to shake hands with the baby?" He reached out and took Andrea's little hand, and guided it down to Cecilia's even tinier fist protruding from the blankets. Andrea wrapped her fingers around her sister's hand the way she would hold onto Sam's thumb, and giggled when the baby flailed her little arm in response. "There we are," Sam whispered. "Best friends on sight." 

"We've been practicing," Josh said. "Andrea? Baby? Cecilia, remember? Say 'Cecilia.'" 

Andrea worked her mouth a few times, still tugging on her baby sister's hand, and finally pronounced, "Cissy." 

"Well," said Josh. "There you have it." 


	10. Epiphany 10

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Cecilia Lyman's first excursion into the wide world took place on Memorial Day when she was three weeks old. Andy and her staff had a spot on the Senate balcony of the Capitol to watch the concert on the Mall, and Josh and Donna decided it would be a perfect time to introduce the new baby to the Washington scene. Andy's staff greeted Donna with arms outstretched, all begging her to come back to work as soon as possible and wanting to hold the baby. 

By the time dusk descended on the West Lawn, Ainsley had slipped away from the crowd of her friends who worked on the Hill and joined them on the side of the balcony. "Where's Cissy?" were her first words to Donna, even as she bent down and scooped Andrea into her arms. Andrea laughed, as she usually did, and tried to get a handful of Ainsley's hair. 

"Senator McLucas has her," Donna replied, pointing over to where the oldest Democrat in the Senate, a sweet eighty-six-year-old former football player from Wisconsin, was standing in a circle of young female aides rocking Cissy in his arms. "Look at her, she's smaller than one of his forearms." 

Ainsley turned and melted instantly. "Oh, cute. He has a bunch of kids of his own, doesn't he?" 

"Nine, and so far twenty-five grandchildren and four great-grandchildren," Sam replied. "When we came out on the balcony he just walked over and said, 'Look at this tiny little star,' and made off with her." 

"Democrats," Ainsley said, shaking her head seriously. "Always trying to raise other people's children." 

"Low," Donna replied. A questioning sound from Andrea drew their attention, and Donna reached for her daughter's hand. "You've got Aunt Ainsley's hair, haven't you? Did you ever say, 'Hi, Aunt Ainsley?' Come on - hi, Aunt Ainsley." Andrea made a passable attempt, following Donna's lead and waving her little fingers at Ainsley's face. Ainsley grinned and kissed the small hand. 

"So cute," she said, bouncing the little girl and watching her smile. She reached one hand up and stroked Andrea's nose with a gentle fingertip. "You got a little sun today, didn't you, sweetheart?" 

"She wouldn't keep the darned hat on," Donna mock-grumbled. "And it was setting a very bad example. Cissy kept smacking her bonnet with her little fist. I'm sure if she could actually grab onto it, she would have pulled it off." 

"Are you taking care of your sister?" Ainsley asked Andrea, caressing her hair. She looked up at Donna. "Seriously, how are they doing together?" 

"Well, Cissy isn't quite at the point where she recognizes people yet. But the other morning we woke up to Andrea shrieking in the baby monitor. I went tearing into the nursery, sure she had tried to climb out of the crib and fallen or hit her head or something. When I got in there, she was totally fine \- standing up, holding onto the bars, hopping up and down. I picked her up and said 'What's wrong?' - you know. I thought maybe she had a dream, or . . . anyway, she pointed over at her sister's crib and said, 'Mommy, Cissy cry.' Sure enough, Cissy was awake and crying - not loud enough to wake us up, but Andrea heard." 

"Awww." Ainsley kissed Andrea's head and murmured, "Good girl. Such a good girl. That's what sisters are supposed to do." 

"Yeah." Donna laughed. "When I got back to bed, Josh was listening to the whole thing on the monitor and crying." Ainsley cracked up, and Donna continued, "We're really excited Andrea's grasped that the baby is another actual person and not a doll of some kind. We were a little worried, considering Cissy's the first person she's ever met who couldn't pick her up and talk to her." 

"Hmm." Ainsley threw a look over her shoulder. "Speaking of Cissy, can I go reclaim her from McLucas and the Babysitter's Club over there?" 

"Yes. Give me my other child and fetch the baby." 

Ainsley passed Andrea into her mother's arms and ran off to collect her new goddaughter. Donna sank onto a chair beside Sam, who had been sitting quietly listening to their conversation. "You okay?" she asked. 

"I'm great," he replied tranquilly. He took one of Andrea's hands and held it between his thumb and forefinger. "It's a beautiful night, I'm sitting here on the Capitol balcony with my friends and their adorable daughters, and Josh should be back any second with sandwiches from the best place on the Hill. Life is good." 

"Okay," Donna said softly. Ainsley rejoined them with Cissy draped against her shoulder, and sat down on Sam's other side. 

"Hey," he said, turning to face her, "I haven't told you how beautiful you look. That shirt is a perfect color for you." 

"Thank you," Ainsley replied, a tiny flush coloring her face. 

"Actually, I was talking to Cecilia." 

"Bite me, Seaborn." 

He leaned over and lightly bit her shoulder. "Thank you," she said calmly. 

"How old are you two?" Donna asked, chuckling. 

"It's a midlife crisis," Ainsley replied. "We decided to have it together, save time." 

"Donna," Sam said, turning back to his friend, "why are you looking at us like that?" 

"I'm reconsidering entrusting my children to the two of you." 

"Don't worry, you still have a wide selection of six other godparents," Ainsley said, tugging on one of the baby's curled-up legs. "Right, Cissy?" 

"Yeah, come to think of it, you two are the underachievers," Donna said. "Toby has a midlife crisis, he decides to get his wife in the Senate. Sam just decides to bite Republicans." 

"Vaguely similar, at least in theme," Ainsley said. Their conversation was interrupted by Andrea fretting and trying to lean over Donna's lap. 

"What's the matter, baby?" Donna whispered. 

Andrea flexed her fingers at Ainsley and the baby and said "Cissy" with a little touch of whine in her voice. 

"You want Cissy?" Donna gave Ainsley and Sam a sentimental look. "Okay. Sit with Uncle Sam." She passed Andrea to her uncle, and Sam held her carefully as Ainsley turned the new baby around so that Andrea could see her. She reached a hand out to her sister and touched a red, white, and blue sock-clad foot, babbling to Cissy in a language only she could understand. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam pushed open the door of Ainsley's office and was instantly greeted by a lawyer he recognized from meetings back in his White House days. "Hey, Sam," the guy said cordially, standing up from his desk near the door. "Are you who they sent over about the nomination?" 

"The Superior Court nomination?" Sam asked. When the guy nodded, he shook his head. "No, I don't know who they're sending for that. I'm here for Senator Wyatt about internet porn." 

"Senator Wyatt wants internet porn? Wait - do we have it here?" 

Sam laughed despite himself. "Ainsley here?" 

"Yeah, I think she's back at her desk." 

He walked back and poked his head into Ainsley's cubicle, grinning at the sight of her bent seriously over her laptop. "Talk to me about porn," he said from behind her. 

Without lifting her head she said, in a completely flat tone, "Sam, if we're going to have phone sex, don't you think it would be more fun with an actual phone?" 

"And the laugh riot begins." He grabbed the back of her chair and whirled her around, ignoring her yelp. "Can we go somewhere with room for me to sit?" 

"We can go to lunch on the committee," she replied. 

"Armand's?" 

"Sure, we can mingle with Senate interns. Maybe you can sign autographs." 

"Why do I like you?" he mused rhetorically as she took her sweater from the back of her chair. 

Ainsley could barely contain herself when a table full of college-aged women at the restaurant asked Sam for his autograph. She had stopped laughing by the time she heard her own name spoken quietly. She was standing just inside the restaurant door waiting for Sam, and the girl she had overheard was sitting at the outdoor table nearest the entrance. She motioned for him to stay quiet for a moment. 

"I'm telling you, I'm sure," the girl was saying. Sam didn't look, but she sounded young. "My sister loved her, she used to get so excited every time Ainsley Hayes was on TV." 

"I heard it was all show, the way she looked like she supported Bartlet," another female voice commented. 

The third voice was male. "I read this thing in Newsweek once about how she and Seaborn worked together all the time. How much do you bet they totally hate each other?" 

"Oh, definitely," one of the girls said. "I mean, I know it was good for the image and all, but can you imagine those two willingly, you know? I mean they both seem pretty cool and everything, but some things just don't happen outside of movies." 

"No kidding," the other girl replied. "Not that anyone wouldn't want to hang out with Seaborn." 

"Way cute," her friend agreed. 

Ainsley shook her head and turned to Sam. "Let's sit outside?" she suggested. 

A smile spread across his face. "Yeah. It's nice out." 

He spotted the kids as soon as they went outside - typical interns from what he could tell, the girls in sweater sets and the boy with his suit jacket hanging over his chair. They very carefully didn't look at them, walking past as though they didn't notice any of the other people sitting at the tables. 

"Holy crap," one of the girls whispered, presumably when she thought Ainsley and Sam were out of earshot. "How did we miss him going in?" 

Ainsley deliberately chose a table just behind the kids', where they would be able to hear Sam and Ainsley's conversation if they strained but wouldn't be able to see them. "You are so evil," Sam whispered as they sat down. "And I love it." 

When Ainsley excused herself to go to the ladies' room midway through their discussion of the First Amendment and internet pornography regulation, Sam relaxed back in his chair and just sat enjoying the light June breeze. It took exactly half a minute for the boy at the other table to twist around in his chair and say, "Mr. Seaborn?" 

"Yeah?" he replied. 

The kid cleared his throat. "Sorry to - I just wanted to say, I really like you. I think you're cool. And my sister goes to school in Massachusetts, and she said she heard Senator Wyatt speak and she was great." 

Sam smiled a little. The older he got, the more tolerance he had for the college intern crowd. "Thanks," he said. "She is pretty great." 

"I think it's nice she got married in office. That's kind of brave," one of the girls said. 

Sam grinned now, knowing how much he would have enjoyed insider gossip at their age, even the harmless kind. "You've never met Toby Ziegler. You have no idea how brave." 

The kids laughed appreciatively, and the other girl asked a little hesitantly, "Was that Ainsley Hayes?" 

"Yeah," he said, now fighting to keep the smile off his face. "Wait \- who do you all work for?" 

"Barnett," they all replied in near-unison. 

Barnett was a Democrat, a twenty-year Senate veteran from Missouri. "Okay," Sam said, satisfied they weren't the enemy. "You want some inside information?" 

The kids exchanged looks and said, "Yeah," excitedly. 

"Senator Wyatt and Congressman Miranda are reexamining the possibility of putting restrictions on internet pornography. They're working out the enforcement and First Amendment issues right now, so our staff is working closely with the Judiciary Committee staff to determine whether the bill should be drafted at this point." 

"Cool," said the boy. 

"So, are you guys friends?" one of the girls asked. 

"Me and . . . ?" 

"You and Ms. Hayes." 

"Oh." He smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. We know each other from the White House, you know." 

"Yeah," the girl said, giving her friend a knowing look. "I remember there was kind of a big thing about her working there." 

Sam laughed. "What were you then, about twelve?" 

"Thirteen," the girl said defensively. "I was in an honors American Government class." 

"You went to a good school," he commented. 

"Uh-huh." She scooted her chair around a bit to face him more directly. "So, you're all still friends, huh? That's really cool." 

On a sudden inspiration, he reached for his wallet, thinking of something else that would probably thrill them. It was always exciting to realize politicians were real people. He opened his wallet to the photo holder and extended it toward them. "These are Josh Lyman and Donna Moss's kids. Donna works for Senator Wyatt now, too." 

"Oh my gosh," the quieter girl said, her eyes widening as she took his wallet from his hands. "I read they had kids, but there aren't any pictures really - they're so *cute!* What are their names?" 

"Andrea and Cecilia," he said, pointing to each photo in turn. The photo of Cissy was the first one from the hospital, with her fingers splayed across her little red face. "Andrea is named after Senator Wyatt, actually." 

The other girl was looking at the pictures now, with equal adoration. "Do you, like, babysit and all?" she asked. 

"All the time," he replied proudly. "I'm Andrea's godfather. Actually, Ainsley is Cecilia's godmother, too." 

"No kidding," the boy said. 

Sam looked up to see Ainsley returning; she had time to give him a quizzical look before the kids saw her. "I missed you," he said, retrieving his wallet from the table of kids. 

"I bet," she said as she slipped into her seat. "I ran into a couple of friends from the Court. They wanted to know if you were single." 

"All of them?" 

"Don't worry, I told them they would have to take turns." 

The kids were trying not to gape. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So," Sam said, leaning his elbows on Andy's desk, "Ainsley says Burke and Romer are going to be our biggest First Amendment problems." 

"Burke and Romer are Republicans," Andy said slowly. 

"Yeah," Sam said, laughing. "She meant the other way." 

"The other way?" Andy scrubbed a hand across her pale face as she thought. "She means Burke and Romer are going to go nuts on us and make the bill look bad by supporting it?" 

"Yup. They'll stand up and rant about how protecting the sensitive eyes of our children is more important than preserving First Amendment rights of pornographers, and the ACLU will be on TV in exactly twelve seconds." 

"Okay," she replied. "Something to keep in mind. Get around making it sound like that's the argument." 

"Or find a way to piss off Burke and Romer so they'd rather die than support anything you signed." Andy didn't laugh, and he grew momentarily concerned. "Andy?" 

She looked up as if waking from a daze. "Yeah? Sorry." 

"You okay?" 

She nodded, running her hands over her hair to smooth it. "Yeah, just \- I guess I need to keep better hours. Not twenty anymore." 

He rolled his eyes. "Who is? You want to take a break?" 

She shook her head. "No -" The ringing phone cut her off. She looked at it, looked back at Sam, and said, "I mean yes." Smiling, she picked up the phone. "Yeah, Annie? Okay, put her through." She made a face at Sam and pressed the button for another phone line. "Hello, this is Andrea Wyatt. Yes, I did. Okay. Sure, I'll hang on." She leaned the receiver against her cheek and said, "Sorry. This should only take a sec - Hello? Yes, this is she. Yeah. No, it's fine, I'm not - oh? Anything - okay. Okay. What?" The last word was bordering on shrill, and Andy's face had suddenly gone even paler. 

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, but she didn't seem to see him. She shifted the phone to the other ear and asked, "Are you sure? There wasn't some kind of . . . No, I mean, I just didn't think - yes. Yes. Yeah, I guess. Yes. Yeah, um, I'll - can I have my assistant call back in a bit? Okay. Okay. Yeah, uh \- thanks." She hung up the phone, her expression frozen. 

"Andy?" Sam asked. "Is everything okay?" 

"Yes," she said slowly, but she looked anything but. She was clearly struggling to maintain her calm tone. Her voice trembled a little as she said, "Can you - could you find Toby, please? I think he's in the office down the hall." 

"Okay," he said around the lump in his throat. He stood nervously. "Can I - do you need anything?" 

She shook her head, looking as though she might be ill. "Just - find him, please?" 

Sam almost ran down the hall, fortunately finding Toby exactly where he had expected. He was down the hall in an empty office annex, gathered around a table with a bunch of staffers. Sam interrupted them without ceremony, whispering as he and Toby left the room, "Andy got a phone call and something's wrong. I don't know what." 

Toby went into the inner office and shut the door, leaving Sam outside with the receptionists, interns, and a couple of assistants and junior staffers. As subtly as possible he leaned over to Annie, one of the staff assistants, and asked, "Who was on the phone?" 

"A doctor Menzi? She didn't say what it was about." 

By the time the door to Andy's office opened, Sam had worked himself halfway to a nervous attack. All he could think was that a family member was ill, that Andy had some kind of terrible disease, that Toby's blood pressure had gone up - 

Toby's head leaned around the door, and he motioned Sam into the office. It was not lost on Sam that Toby was pale now, too, and a trifle red around the eyes. 

When he stepped into the office, now completely sure that life as they knew it was about to come to an end, Andy was sitting on her desk rubbing her forehead. She offered him a shaky smile as he came to her side, and she held out her hand to him. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, glancing quickly between them. "Is someone sick?" 

"No," Andy replied, and she had to cough a bit to do it. "No, it's okay, nobody's sick. I'm sorry I was so . . . anyway." 

"It's fine," Sam said. He looked over at Toby again. "So?" 

Toby gestured back to Andy, and she swallowed visibly. "This is - this is going to be a bit of a thing, Sam. Apparently I'm, um - I'm pregnant." 

Sam froze with his mouth open. After a second he remembered to breathe, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Is there something in the water?" 

Andy actually laughed, covering her mouth with both hands. "I know," she said, blinking back the fresh tears at the corners of her eyes. "It's our own personal population explosion." She coughed and wiped her eyes. "I don't know what to say. I don't think anyone's ever gotten pregnant six months into a Senate term. Well, I guess four months, actually." 

Sam held up both hands. "I support you both, but there are things I don't need to know." 

"What am I going to do?" Andy asked. 

Sam looked at Toby, who was remaining studiously blank. "Well. Exactly what Donna did. Work. Only with more jackets, so it's less noticeable on C-SPAN. When are you due?" 

"November." 

"So you'll take a slightly extended Thanksgiving vacation. If we can have senators in office who have to spend three months in the hospital for heart surgery, you can miss a week to give birth. And we'll tell the press you just got married and you and Toby believe in families, but you're just as focused on your job and the people of Massachusetts. If anything, you want even more to make a better world for your child." 

Andy nodded without saying a word, and Sam closed his eyes briefly. "Andy. I'm sorry, I - I have no soul. How do you feel about this? Not about the Senate, I mean about the baby." 

Her eyes flickered toward Toby before she answered. "I'm - we're - we're happy about it. I think. It's unexpected - I'd kind of thought I was past this. It never happened before, and now I'm in my forties, and . . ." She gestured aimlessly at her abdomen. "Here we are, it seems." 

He nodded. "Okay. Good." He held out his arms and embraced her gently. "Then I'm happy for you. Both of you. You're going to be great parents, and everything else we can take care of. I promise." 

"Thank you, Sam," Andy murmured. Over her shoulder he caught Toby's eye, and the two men nodded to each other. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

When he called Ainsley that night - with Andy's permission - to tell her about the baby, she let him get out approximately two sentences before saying, "Stop. I'm coming." 

It was exactly twenty minutes from the time she hung up when Ainsley turned up at his door in jeans and a sweatshirt that was much too big for her, hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. When he opened the door she said, "Are you kidding?" 

"Uh-uh." He stepped back and let her into the apartment. "Andy's as pregnant as you can get." 

She frowned as she whipped the sweatshirt over her head. "Technically, I think a woman carrying triplets would be more pregnant." 

"Can you be more pregnant?" 

"Maybe not. Maybe it's like being - you know what, it doesn't matter." She dropped onto his couch and grinned, sidetracked by the CD case lying on the end table. "Pat Benatar, Sam?" 

"Shut up." He sat down next to her. 

"Love is a Battlefield?" 

"You want to mess with me, or you want to talk about Andy?" 

She considered. "Andy first." 

"Goody." 

"What is she going to do?" 

He shrugged. "What can she do? She wants the baby - they both do - and even if she didn't . . ." 

"No way a senator would be able to . . ." 

"Yeah." Neither of them was going to say the word. "Anyway," he continued, "she wouldn't. She - I think she sees this as the last chance she didn't really expect to have." 

"Yeah," Ainsley said quietly. "Wow. Andy and Toby, parents." "No kidding." He leaned back and turned his head toward her. "Can you picture Toby with a son? Or a daughter?" 

"A daughter would be easy, I think," Ainsley replied. "You've seen him with Andrea and Cissy already." 

"True." He shook his head. "The press are going to have a field day, women's groups everywhere are going to be up in arms, people are going to start claiming she can't do her job - and I can't think of a single way to stop it." 

"There isn't one," Ainsley said. "You can't stop that happening, it's the law of politics. Of women in politics especially. All you can do is walk her through it. In a way, it's lucky it's happening now." 

"How do you figure that?" he asked, turning his whole body toward her. 

"It's the first year of her term . . ." 

"Yeah." 

"Meaning she has five years after this one. By the time she has to run for reelection, this child will be at least four. People will have forgotten. She won't have an infant anymore. They won't be able to say she can't do her job because she has to take care of her baby. And she'll be, what, forty-eight, forty-nine? I doubt people will be expecting her to have another one." 

He thought about that for a moment. "You know. I think you're right about that." 

"Of course I am. You know, I wonder you and Toby didn't think of it." 

"Shut up." 

"Okay." She reached for his hand and laced their fingers together, and they sat quietly for a few moments. Finally she said, "I'm kind of glad Andy's pregnant." 

"Really?" he asked, frowning at her. 

"Mmm-hmm." 

"Why?" 

She hesitated a moment. "Well - it's kind of like a benchmark." 

"I'm not getting it." 

"Andy's almost forty-four. If she can have a baby at that age, then I have more time than I thought." 

"Oh." He squeezed her fingers gently. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I wouldn't have thought of that." 

"Of course not. You can father children at ninety if you want to." 

He shuddered. "Somehow I find that idea repulsive." 

"Good." She took a few slow breaths before turning and asking, "Sam?" in the most hesitant voice he'd ever heard her use. 

"Yeah?" 

She looked at him for a long moment with her mouth starting to open. Then her eyes fluttered and she shook her head. "Never mind." 

"Ainsley?" 

"Hmm?" 

"If you haven't found the right man by the time you're forty-four . . ." 

"Yeah?" 

"I promise I will donate my sperm." 

"Ugh." She grabbed a throw pillow and whacked him over the head and shoulders with it repeatedly. "You're so sensitive." 

"I try very, very hard." He pulled the pillow away from her and tugged her against his shoulder, slipping his arm around her. "We'd have cute kids. I'd keep me in mind, if I were you." 

"I'll file that in the appropriate place," she mumbled into his shoulder. "On the other hand, we already know Josh has cute kids. Smart, too. You think Donna would mind . . ." 

"I swear to God, I just went deaf." 

She patted his thigh and turned her head up to look at him. "You want to come get dinner with me?" 

"Can we go somewhere with no tourists?" 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Ainsley stood close to Leo at the front of the church, cradling Cissy in the same little white dress that Andrea had worn. Off to the side stood Josh's cousin Ella - Sylvia's sister - and her husband Michael, who had been a good friend of Josh's in high school. Josh and Donna beamed from the other side, and Donna's sister clicked away at the digital camera she had carried in her very large purse all the way from Wisconsin. 

This time Toby had brought along the rabbi from his synagogue to bless the baby. He stood between the rabbi and Andy, who was now four months pregnant and starting to show the tiniest bit under her straight dress. Every now and then, before the start of the ceremony, Sam had caught Ainsley sending envious looks in Andy's direction. 

Unlike her calm, cheerful sister, Cissy wailed when the water touched her forehead. "You would think we never bathed her," Donna muttered as Sam came up behind her to take pictures. 

"Not with cold water," Sam pointed out. "Oops, she just tried to kick the minister." 

Cissy followed that attempted strike by trying to bop Ainsley on the chin with her fist. Ainsley only smiled and shifted the baby up to her shoulder while the minister finished. 

They had another little party at Josh and Donna's house afterwards. Leo entertained most of the room unknowingly by waltzing Andrea up and down the hallway between the living room and the kitchen, singing something no one could quite recognize. Andy had commandeered Cissy and was sitting at the kitchen table talking to Sam and letting the baby hold her finger. 

Sam leaned over and tickled Cissy's chin until she laughed for the first time that day, not having been entirely fond of the whole baptism process. "She's so different from Andrea," he commented to Andy. "Look at those eyes, those are all Josh." 

"That's probably good," Andy replied. "No one will confuse them for each other. They'll get to be individuals." 

"Yeah." Cissy tried to get his finger in her mouth, and he tapped her nose playfully. "Cut it out, you. Just because you're adorable . . ." 

Cissy started to wrinkle her face up and her legs drew up to her chest. "Uh-oh," Andy said softly. 

"Yeah, that's the universal about-to-cry position. You want to take her?" 

"You go ahead." 

Sam scooped Cissy off the table and laid her against his shoulder. "Come on, baby girl. Settle down. I know you're clean, and you're getting fed soon, and everything's okay." She whimpered and clutched at his shirt, and he tucked his head down and kissed her dark, fine curls. "Shh. People will think you don't like your Uncle Sam." 

"Andrea!" 

Andy rolled her eyes at the sound of her husband's voice. "Here I go," she said, pulling herself to her feet. She gave both Cissy and Sam a kiss on the head before ambling out of the kitchen in search of Toby. 


	11. Epiphany 11

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

"I have a proposition for you." 

Sam looked up and frowned. "The last time I remember a conversation beginning that way, I wound up camping." 

Ainsley frowned, temporarily knocked off track. "Really? That's kind of weird." 

"What is it?" 

"What is what?" 

"Your proposition." 

"Oh." She left the doorway and came all the way into his office, sitting on the edge of the desk. "My parents have a summer house in Hilton Head. They go down periodically, and my brother and sister and I take turns when they're not using it. Della's family is down there this week, but I can have it two weeks from now - and I *need* a vacation." 

"Yeah," he said emphatically. 

"So it's a huge house. Dell and Rob and I all had our own rooms when we were little, and there's a guest room as well. Way too big for just me. So I thought, with the recess coming up, we could make it a house party. Take everybody down." 

"Everybody?" 

"Well, you. Josh, Donna, and the girls. Toby and Andy. I don't know, anyone else you feel should be included?" 

"None of your friends from the committee staff?" he asked. 

She grinned. "I thought we'd keep the bloodshed to a minimum." 

"Good point." 

"Also, I'm not really close enough to any of them. I like them fine, but I spend most of my time with you people." 

"It really is contagious," Sam laughed. "I think it sounds great. And incredibly nice of you." 

"I'm not being nice," she assured him. "I just don't much want to go down alone this year." 

"Well, count me in. Want me to ask Andy and Toby?" 

"Yeah," she agreed. "I guess that would probably be better, right?" 

"Maybe." 

"Anyway." She slipped off the desk and straightened her skirt. "I'm supposed to visit Donna tonight. I'll talk to her and Josh then." 

"You know she's coming back to work next week." 

"I know." Ainsley paused with one hand on the doorjamb. "It's lucky Ginger felt like having three babies running around her house. Or not running, I guess, in Cissy's case." 

"Well, it's company for Sarabeth." 

"That's Ginger's daughter?" 

"Yeah. She's about two and a half, so she and Andrea roll around on the floor and watch Sesame Street together." 

"Cute." Ainsley sighed. "Anyhow. Work." 

"Yes. I'll talk to you later." 

She waved over her shoulder as she left the office. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Predictably, their friends were thrilled to be invited to Hilton Head for a week. The August recess took the pressure off all of them who worked at the Senate, and Josh's semester didn't start for another month. 

Sam took off his sunglasses and stared with his mouth open at the sight of the Hayes family summer house. It had a beach view and a wraparound porch, bay windows and little gables on the upper floor. "Holy God." 

"Yup." Ainsley slammed her car door and rummaged for the keys as she walked up onto the porch. "As kids we weren't that impressed because we grew up here, you know. But looking at it as an adult - my parents were very lucky to get this house." 

"They've had it since you were kids?" 

"Dad bought it as a surprise for Mom when Rob was born." The door swung open and she turned to smile at him. "The first boy, of course. He gave her pearls for me and Della." 

"Of course." He stepped in after her and looked around at the tastefully decorated foyer. The floors were hardwood and covered only partially by a narrow Oriental rug. A small table held a lamp and a vase - empty - and a miniature chandelier hung from the ceiling. Even this entryway bespoke quiet money. "Pearls, huh?" he said without taking his eyes from the chandelier. 

"Nice pearls," Ainsley said from behind him. 

"I bet." 

"So." She tossed the keys up in the air and caught them neatly. "You want the downstairs guest room, or upstairs?" 

"What does that mean in terms of everyone else?" 

"Well, I'm giving Josh and Donna my old room so they can put the babies in Della's room - it has an adjoining door. I'll let Andy and Toby have the master bedroom, with the comfortable bed; I'm sure she needs it. So you and I will have Rob's room, which is next to Della's, and the downstairs room. I have no preference." 

"You're probably used to being upstairs, though, right? I'll stay down here." 

"Okay." She pointed him in the right direction, and he headed back out to the car to retrieve his bag. He was just in time to see the two rental cars coming up the road and waved gaily as they slowed down in front of the house. 

"Oh my God," Donna said as she stepped out of the car. 

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Sam said as he went over to hug her. "Apparently it was a thank-you for producing an heir." 

"And I had two girls," Donna said. "Damn." 

"Third time's a charm." 

"Samuel!" Josh climbed out of the car and held up a hand. 

"How was the flight?" Sam asked them both, while waving to Andy and Toby as they climbed out of the other car. 

"Not too bad," Donna replied. "It was a great help having Andy and Toby with us, so we had extra hands with the babies and the suitcases." 

"Speaking of which . . ." Sam opened the back door and started to unbuckle Cissy. "It's a good thing you can rent carseats as well as cars. Hi, little Cissy." He dove halfway across the seat and waved to his goddaughter. "Hello, Andrea." 

"Hey!" Ainsley came out of the house waving her keys in one hand. "There's a message from C.J. She is going to make it down for the weekend." 

"She coming tomorrow?" Sam asked. 

"Saturday morning. She says she can only stay two days." Ainsley took Andy's suitcase from her, ignoring Andy's protests, and waved them all into the house. 

By the time evening had fallen they had split off into groups. Toby and Josh sat in wicker chairs at one end of the porch sipping from wineglasses left over from dinner and trying hard not to talk about politics. It wasn't working. Andy and Sam sat in rocking chairs at the other end of the porch having slightly more success: they had managed to maintain a conversation about childhood family vacations while Andrea dozed in her uncle's lap. If he craned his neck, Sam could see Donna and Ainsley walking down the beach with Cissy strapped to Donna's chest. If he closed his eyes and ignored the old beach house, he could have been back on the camping trip over a year ago, when the baby in the carrier was a tiny Andrea. 

Andy twisted around to set her iced tea glass on the porch railing, then wiped the cold condensation from her hand on her skirt before reaching for Andrea. She ran a gentle hand over the little girl's hair and whispered, "So peaceful." 

Sam smiled down at the baby on his lap. "Timing worked out pretty good, didn't it?" 

Andy looked up at him and shook her head. "What timing?" 

"I mean you and Toby both had a chance to bond with Andrea, spend time with her, and see how happy she made Josh and Donna - her and Cissy. You haven't been able to spend as much time with your brother's kids, but seeing Andrea so much right before you . . . you know." He waved a hand delicately at her swelling abdomen. "That's good, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, I guess," Andy said, sounding surprised. "I never really thought about it." She stroked her finger down over Andrea's cheek and smoothed the little jacket they'd wrapped around her in the cool night air. "Think ours will be this sweet?" 

"You don't mean 'ours,' do you?" Sam asked with a teasing smile. "Because my mom told me Bobby Stevenson was lying when he said kissing makes babies." 

Andy whacked his arm. "Don't ever say that where anyone else can hear you." 

He cleared his throat nervously. "I told Ainsley." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I hope you mean you told Ainsley that kissing makes babies." She paused. "And I really hope she didn't believe you." 

He coughed. "No, I, uh, I told her about - that. And she did believe me." 

Andy's whisper was harsh. "Why did you -" 

"We were about to - um -" He stopped, having changed his mind. "We didn't, though, but I told her that I had also - kissed - you - once." 

"Why?" she whispered. 

He ran a cautionary hand over Andrea's hair, but she wasn't stirring. "In the interest of honesty." 

"Who the hell wants honesty?" 

He gave her a look, and she threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, fine. But what did she say?" 

"She's not going to tell anyone, Andrea. I think she was more concerned with whether I had enjoyed it than with the other possible ramifications. And she believed me when I told her it never happened again." Now Andy was giving *him* a look, and he asked defensively, "What?" 

Both her eyebrows lifted. "She was concerned that you might have enjoyed it?" 

"Don't go there," he said, shifting his arms to cuddle the baby closer against a cool breeze. "We had a little irrational moment, but we're friends. Close friends, but that's all." 

"Where have I heard that before?" Andy muttered. "Oh wait - it was you." 

"And it's still true." 

"Sure." She tilted her head up and called softly, "Did you test the water?" 

Sam turned around and watched Ainsley and Donna climb back up onto the porch. "Pretty cold," Ainsley said, "but it is nighttime. When the sun comes out it should be nice." 

Donna sat down in the remaining rocking chair and started to unbuckle Cissy from the carrier, while Ainsley perched on the railing behind Sam. "Andrea still asleep?" Donna asked. 

Sam glanced down, although he didn't need to. "Yeah. I guess the flight wore her out." 

Cissy made a little cranky noise and kicked out at the air, one hand rubbing her eyes. Donna rubbed her stomach soothingly, but she continued to fuss. "Looks like it might be bedtime," Donna whispered. She glanced over at her other child. "I'll send Josh over to get Andrea." 

Sam waved his consent. "We're fine here." 

When Josh had collected his daughter and gone up to bed, Toby moved over to join them, pulling his chair over as Ainsley moved to the one Donna had evacuated. "Did you tell them?" he asked Andy. 

She jumped a little. "I forgot." Turning back to Sam and Ainsley she said, "We told Josh and Donna on the plane. We found out a while ago and we were going to wait and let everyone find out when she was born, but . . ." 

"She?" Sam picked up immediately. 

"Yeah," Andy said with a little smile. "It's a girl." 

"There is definitely something in the water," Sam said. 

"Oh yeah," Toby agreed. "But at least - you know, she and Andrea and Cissy can grow up together, do - girl things together." 

"Does she have a name?" Sam asked, trying not to laugh about the "girl things." 

"No," Andy sighed. "We're having a complicated time reaching that decision." 

"Your mother?" Sam asked. 

"Katie. My brother already has one." 

"Toby's mother," Ainsley suggested. 

"Tzipporah," Toby and Andy said together. 

"Okay. Maybe not." 

"No, considering the dual-heritage problem, we'd kind of like to stick with something that would work for a Jewish or a Christian child," Andy said. "So, you know, Mary is pretty much out, too." 

"Did Josh and Donna think about that?" Ainsley asked curiously. 

"No," Toby replied. "They wanted to name the girls after Andy and Mrs. Lyman and Mrs. Moss, so it was an easy decision. Although it might have been a harder one if Mrs. Lyman had been named Tzipporah, instead of Helen." 

"So I guess you've ruled out Judith and Miriam, too?" Sam asked. Toby nodded. 

"Who are Judith and Miriam?" Ainsley asked. 

"His sisters," Andy answered. "And my grandmothers' names were Theresa and Fiona, so - no." 

"I don't know," Sam said, "I think Fiona Tzipporah Ziegler has a certain ring to it." 

"It kind of does," Andy said, "and I find that scary. Never speak it again." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

C.J. drove in from Atlanta Saturday morning, having decided that a commuter flight to Savannah would have been indulgent. Sam answered the door with Andrea in his arms and C.J. immediately dropped her overnight bag and reached for the baby. "It's the little bug!" she exclaimed, hugging Andrea close. Her eyes widened as she caught her first glimpse of Cissy in Josh's arms. "And a little buglet!" With Andrea perched on her hip, she stepped inside and leaned over Cissy. "What a sweetheart! You won't ever get them confused, will you?" 

"No, this is the dark one," Josh replied, jiggling the baby until she smiled. "Which you would have known if you'd come up for the baptism." 

"You know I'd rather have been there, but there was an earthquake in California," she said. "I was busy sending out reporters to clutter up the airwaves. Anyway, I saw pictures." 

"Speaking of reporters . . ." Donna said, bringing C.J.'s bag inside. 

"Stop it," C.J. said firmly. 

"I heard a little rumor . . ." 

"You did not." 

"From the society editor of the Baltimore Sun . . ." 

"He's a drunk." 

"Who saw you at a party with Aidan Carson." 

C.J. made a face at her. "You really want to mock the woman who's holding your child?" 

"I'm not worried, you promised a man of God that you'd take care of her." 

C.J. kissed Andrea's hair and whispered to her, "You won't make fun of Aunt C.J., will you? Of course not. You always were my favorite Lyman." 

Andy, Ainsley, and Toby came from the kitchen and Toby carefully held his coffee mug out to the side so that he could give C.J. a one-armed hug. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Now I can say congratulations in person, daddy." 

He looked as though he might be trying to keep from smiling as he said, "Thank you." 

C.J. reached out with her free hand and took Andy's elbow, avoiding the assumption that all pregnant women want their stomachs touched. "You look fabulous, Andy." 

"Thanks," Andy said warmly. "So I heard this rumor about Aidan Carson . . ." 

"Oh my God, shut up." She rolled her eyes and then focused on Ainsley and smiled. "Ainsley. Thanks so much for inviting me down. Otherwise who knows when I would have been able to see this crowd." 

"You're welcome," Ainsley said. "In both senses." 

"Can I drop my bag somewhere? I mean, other than in your foyer." She gave the word its French pronunciation with an elaborate joking head-toss. 

"Guest room," Ainsley said, pointing down the hall. 

"Okay." As she passed Sam, C.J. handed Andrea to him and then hugged him carefully and kissed his cheek. "Hey, Spanky. Walk me there, would you?" 

He knew he was in trouble, but C.J. waited until they were in the guest room before she asked, "So, I'm not putting you out too much, am I?" 

"No," he replied calmly. 

"Ainsley said she would double someone up for the night," C.J. said slyly. She sat down on the bed and patted the space next to her. "Are you sleeping on the floor in the babies' room?" 

"No," he said in the same tone, sitting down with Andrea on his lap. "Have you said hi to Aunt C.J., honey?" he asked her indulgently. She responded with a string of half-intelligible words and an attempt to stand up on his leg. 

"Don't distract me," C.J. said, placing a hand on Andrea's back. "So you're sleeping with Josh and Donna then?" 

"That's a visual I'll be carrying around for a while," he said. "No, I'm sleeping in Ainsley's brother's room." 

"With Ainsley," C.J. said. 

"Yes." Off her look he said, very calmly, "We're mature adults; we've done it before." 

"Really?" That one word had about nineteen syllables. 

"Oh, please," he said. "We haven't had - you know." 

"You know?" she echoed. 

"There's a child in the room," he said. "Anyway, we didn't. But the night of Andy and Toby's wedding she slept at my apartment. We were tired and drunk and we passed out together; end of story." 

"Is it?" she asked, with less teasing in her tone. 

"Yes," he answered simply. "But since we've shared before without killing anyone, and since that solution seemed less awkward than asking you to share with either of us . . ." 

"Okay," C.J. accepted. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, twice. "You are a good man, you know that?" 

"Why am I a good man?" 

"Any number of reasons," she said, taking one of Andrea's hands. 

"So . . . ." 

"What?" 

He gave her a grin. "Is Aidan Carson a good man?" 

"Oh, for the love of . . ." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam gently laid Cissy in the portable playpen, which had traveled from DC in Josh's suitcase. He could hear the sounds of conversation downstairs, punctuated by the welcome sound of C.J.'s laugh. It always took him by surprise when she came to visit and he realized again how much he missed her. 

"Settle down, now," he murmured, a hand resting on Cissy's back. "Go to sleep. Let's let Mommy and Daddy have a talk with Aunt C.J." His legs cramped and he knelt by the playpen, still rubbing her back. "Go to sleep, little Cissy. Go to sleep." 

Despite his whispered words, she continued to fuss quietly and wriggle in the playpen. "Okay," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Your sister always liked this one." Taking a breath, he began to sing as softly as possible. He was halfway through the verse where the bunnies go into the woods when he heard a noise behind him. 

Ainsley was standing in the doorway, one hand to her heart - laughing. Hard. But quietly. "The bunny song?" she whispered. 

"Hey, it gets results," he whispered back. He glanced down at Cissy, then back at Ainsley. "See?" 

Cissy was fast asleep, one arm curled up next to her face. Ainsley came over and peered into the playpen, one hand coming to rest on Sam's shoulder. "Good job," she said. 

He nodded and continued to rub little circles on the sleeping baby's back. "So sweet," he said, more to himself than to Ainsley. 

"Yeah," she agreed. She squeezed his shoulder. "Come on back downstairs?" 

"Yeah," he said. He stood up and reached for the baby monitor, clicking it on. Before leaving the room, he carefully pulled a little blanket up over Cissy's sleeping form. 

Despite the fact that it had worked okay the first time, Sam was a little concerned that sleeping with Ainsley, in the strictly literal sense, might be a little awkward. It turned out that he didn't need to worry. It turned out that they really were close enough now to do this without a lot of strangeness. The bed was wide enough to give them both room, but they fell asleep close together anyway with his arm draped across her waist. Just as he was beginning to doze off, Ainsley murmured, "Sam, I think I'm having trouble sleeping. Would you sing me the bunny song?" He was too tired to do anything more than grumble, "Shut up," while tightening his arm around her. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

They were out on the beach the next day when Ainsley came up to Sam alone, looking tentative. He was standing knee-deep in the water, hands on hips, staring out at the boats he could see along the horizon. 

"Too cold?" she asked. 

"It's actually okay," he said. "I'm just - enjoying the view." 

She waded out to him and stood quietly for a moment before saying, "So you know I'm staying another four days after everyone leaves." 

"Yeah," he said. "I think it's a great idea. This week with everyone is nice, but you should have some total quiet without the kids, too." 

"Yes," she said, and there was something a little off about her tone. He waited patiently until she started talking again. "I was thinking it might be a little too quiet." 

"Hmm?" 

"Yeah." She shifted on her feet, swirling one leg in the blue water. "Would you like to stay? With me? For an extra couple days?" 

He was surprised by the request, and turned to look down at her. "Are you sure? You don't want total peace and quiet?" 

"There's such a thing as too much peace," she said. 

"True." He shrugged. "Sure. I'd like to stay." 

C.J. left early that evening to drive back to Atlanta. Her departure caused a flurry of hugs and kisses, children were passed around, and everyone, even Ainsley, was made to swear that they would come to visit her. C.J. had somehow got wind of the fact that he was staying with Ainsley after the others left in three days, and when she hugged him goodbye she whispered, "Don't screw up," in his ear. He rolled his eyes, kissed her, and shoved her into her car. 

She reached out the window to take Andy's hand. "Take care of little Yoko, there." They had amused themselves all weekend by coming up with non-denominational baby names. 

Andy's hand came to rest on her stomach. "I thought we'd settled on Eunice." 

"Yoko sounds less like a sneeze." 

"No one named Eunice ever broke up a band." 

C.J. slipped her sunglasses on. "We'll talk." 

"We'll have to. Toby's gotten far too attached to Perdita." 

As C.J.'s car pulled down the road, Sam said, "Claudia." 

"It means 'lame,'" Toby replied. 

"Ah." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam received Andrea into his arms and kissed her, holding her close and whispering, "I'll see you next week, baby girl. You and I have a zoo date. You be good on the plane and keep Aunt Andy company when Uncle Toby falls asleep." Toby did not look terribly amused, but he lifted Andrea gently from Sam's arms and started to fasten her into the carseat. 

Sam placed Cissy in the infant seat himself while Josh and Donna said goodbye to Ainsley. He kissed her forehead and ran his hands over her dark, wispy hair. "Take care of Mommy and Daddy and your sister on the plane," he said seriously, wiggling one of her feet in his palm. "Don't let them forget anything." 

He hugged both Josh and Donna and watched them pull away before also embracing Andy and Toby and handing Andy into the other car. When they had also gone he slipped an arm around Ainsley's waist and walked her down toward the beach. 

In the middle of the night he awoke to the sound of footsteps on the stairs which passed just outside the guest room. He got up and went into the living room, where Ainsley was standing quietly at the window. She looked contrite when she saw him. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up." 

"I'm not sure you did," he replied. He joined her at the window and looked out over the water. "I can see why you do this." 

"Only when I can't sleep," she said. 

"Yeah." He frowned a little as he watched the strip of moonlight on the waves. "Reminds me that I haven't gone sailing in far too long." 

She was silent for a long time, and finally he asked, "You okay?" 

"Yeah," she said brightly. "Fine." 

"Really?" 

"Really. I just - the kids, you know." 

"Oh, believe me, I know." 

"Andy and Toby are so lucky," she said. "After seeing them together all week - I know a lot of people kind of thought they were crazy for getting married again, but they're really happy. Toby's so good to her - he has those moments that he doesn't think anyone else sees, where he's so different with Andy from the way he is with everyone else. And the baby, now . . ." 

"They've had a lot of second chances," Sam said. 

She closed her eyes and said, "Sam? Did you ever think maybe we should just . . ." 

He blinked. "Of course I have." Once the surprise had worn off, he gestured toward her and continued, "It is a natural solution; it would suggest itself to anybody. We both want the same thing." 

"Yes, we do," she whispered. 

He watched her for a while, standing in the dark with her face partially illuminated by the moonlight. He watched her breath lift her chest, watched her notice him watching her. He reached out and turned her to face him. "It's a decision," he said carefully. "We could absolutely decide to do it, and deal with the consequences later." 

She swallowed and he could see her jaw tighten. "We could," she said. 

"Would it be giving up?" he asked with his hands on her waist. 

"On finding other people?" she asked. He nodded, and she said, "Maybe. Yes. Yes, obviously it would be. It would be - deciding that it might be too late for either of us to find anyone." 

"Is it?" 

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, and there were tears welling up in her eyes. 

He pulled her into his arms and held her close, letting her rest her head against his chest. She hugged him back tightly, and he bent his head and whispered, "Maybe we're not ready." 

"I want to be," she said, turning her head and leaning her cheek against his shirt. "I want my life to stop being some mid-life Bridges of Madison County angsty women's movie." 

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Somehow I don't think sleeping with me would accomplish that." 

"No, probably not." 

Sam rocked her back and forth the slightest bit. "So - did you keep me here to use me for fertilization?" 

She laughed and smacked his chest. "Jerk." 

"I happen to have it on good authority that I'm a very nice guy," he said. 

"What authority would that be?" 

"C.J." 

"Well, I guess I'll believe her." She pulled back and looked at him. "Come upstairs with me?" 

"Why, Miss Hayes." 

"Not for sex, you utter twit. We both just nearly had a nervous breakdown even contemplating it." 

"Well, okay then." He led her toward the stairs. "So - you've been missing me in bed ever since C.J. left, haven't you?" 

"Desperately," she said. "I don't know how I've lasted this long. It was only the shame of luring you into my bed while everyone else was here, with no excuse, that kept me from dragging you up there." 

"I do love you, you know," he said seriously when they were settled in bed. 

"I know," she replied, turning and burrowing into his arms. "I love you, too . . . Sam?" 

"No, I will not sing to you." 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

It came to him with a ridiculous lack of fanfare. He was in a grocery store, having been dispatched to replenish the milk and coffee, and he noticed that his shirt smelled a bit like Ainsley. It occurred to him that this was not an alien smell - with most women it would have seemed different to have their soap lingering on him, but her smell was familiar and . . . homey? That was it. It felt comfortable. It reminded him of the clean smell of her sheets, with which he somehow associated the smell of a clean breeze coming in the window and the slight tang of sea salt on her skin. He realized that he looked forward to getting back to the house and seeing her, that he was hoping she would want to share a bed with him again tonight. 

The thought was quieter than he felt it should have been. "It wouldn't be giving up." It wouldn't be settling, giving up on finding someone he was really in love with. 

He had not been entirely dishonest with himself, he knew that. He had not been in love with her when they worked at the White House, or when they were first reunited upon his move back to Washington. He had not been in love with her when he called her on Valentine's Day, or when they almost slept together after the wedding. The physical attraction had been between them from the start, but he had been honest in telling Andy that they were only friends. 

Just, somewhere along the line, something had grown up between them that was warmer than ordinary friendship, that incorporated the physical attraction in a way that was not destructive, and that was born out of similar philosophies and similar needs. 

He also knew he couldn't spring this on her right now. It would be too much to ask for both of them to have the same epiphany at the same time. She'd broken down crying at the suggestion - which she herself had made - that they might think about turning to each other for what they hadn't found anywhere else. 

No, he would have to convince her. Carefully. So that she thought it was her idea. He knew somewhere deep down that she was in love with him, that he couldn't have discovered something this perfect and not have her return his feelings. But she had to figure out for herself that she loved him. 

He pitched the brown paper bag into the car and drove at high speed back to the house. 


	12. Epiphany 12

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Josh answered the door with Andrea balanced on one hip. "Hey," he said, sounding a little surprised. 

"Hey," Sam replied. "Donna mentioned she was going out with Margaret tonight, so I figured you'd be alone." 

"I am indeed," Josh replied. "Well, me and the girls." He stepped back as Andrea started to reach for Sam. "Come on in." 

"I just - you know, wasn't doing anything, thought I'd stop by," Sam said, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on a hook. He took Andrea gently from her father's arms, murmuring a greeting as he kissed her head. "Cissy asleep?" 

"Yeah. She'll probably wake up in a few minutes and be cranky for a while, but we'll do the bottle and she'll go back to sleep." 

Sam frowned. "She's on bottles?" 

"Well, it's, uh . . ." Josh motioned to one side of his chest with one hand and made kind of a twisting motion. "There's a, uh, pump -" 

"Okay," Sam said quickly. 

"So Donna could go back to work, you know." 

"Okay," Sam repeated. They migrated into the living room and settled on the couch, where Josh had been watching Crossfire. "She's always been a fan," Sam commented, playing with one of Andrea's hands. 

"I've been thinking about that," Josh said. 

"Yeah?" 

"I think it's the variation in their voices. They're all very animated talkers." 

"Interesting," Sam said after a second of consideration. 

"Funny thing is, Cissy seems to prefer cartoons. Donna thinks she's more visually oriented, and Andrea's more verbal. Or aural, I guess." 

"Well, they're night and day in every other possible way," Sam replied. "That only makes sense." The baby monitor emitted a weak cry, and Josh grinned. "Right on time. Back in a second." 

Sam bounced Andrea on his lap while they waited for Josh to return. "Your sister's awake, huh?" he whispered. She grabbed his face. 

Josh came back with Cissy draped over his shoulder and a bottle in his hand. Sam thought he was doing a good job of keeping the grimace off his face, but apparently he wasn't succeeding. "Hey," Josh said, wiggling the bottle back and forth, "it's a natural process." 

"I'm pretty sure pumping it out isn't a natural process." 

Josh lowered himself carefully onto the couch and eased Cissy down into his lap so that he could feed her. "At the baptism you sat and kept Donna company while she nursed. You're telling me breastfeeding is less awkward when my wife's naked breast is actually in the room?" 

"See, when you put it that way it doesn't make any sense." 

Josh smiled down at Cissy while wrangling the bottle into her mouth. "Come on, Cissy girl, you woke up because you wanted this. Come on." He glanced over at his other daughter. "Baby, you want some juice?" 

"I'll get her some," Sam said, getting to his feet and carrying Andrea into the kitchen. "She still like apple?" 

"That's all we've got," Josh called back. 

"'Kay." Sam lowered Andrea to her feet on the kitchen floor and kept a firm eye on her while he filled one of her special cups with juice and pressed the lid on. "Okay, buddy. Let's go." He swung her onto his hip and carried her back out to the living room. 

"Thanks," Josh said as Sam and Andrea returned to the couch. 

"No problem." Sam watched as Andrea painstakingly lifted the spout on the cup to her mouth, then turned back to Josh and watched him feed Cissy. "Josh?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure," Josh said, looking confused as to why Sam would even ask. 

Sam licked his lips and hesitated for a moment. "You and Donna," he started. 

Josh looked up from Cissy. "Yeah?" 

"This is going to sound stupid, considering everybody knew, but - how did you know? That you were supposed to marry her?" 

"I don't really know," Josh said, shifting his daughter up on his arm. "I mean, I would love to be able to tell you that I had some big revelation, or that I suddenly pictured what our kids would look like, or something, but - there wasn't really anything like that. I just - it was Donna. When I thought about it, I realized we had a life together already. We were a unit. Getting married just meant taking that extra step, making her my family." 

Sam nodded seriously. "So you felt like you already belonged." 

"Yes." Josh nodded slowly. "It wasn't a decision. Once I understood . . ." 

"Okay." Sam bent and brushed his forehead across Andrea's hair. "Would you say - does it feel like she's . . . connected to you, in some way?" 

"Of course," Josh replied immediately. "Yes. A lot." 

"Okay," Sam said seriously. 

"It's like - it feels like we belong to each other. Like neither of us could ever have been with anyone else. That was it for me." 

A tiny cry for attention from Andrea drew her father's gaze. "And then this happened," Josh said with a smile, steadying the little hand that was holding her cup. He reached up and mussed her hair, leaving her curls sticking up in all directions. "And now it's like - they have cells from me and cells from Donna. To me, that's - if you can think about something like that, and it doesn't completely freak you out, to me that means you have the right person." 

"Wow," Sam said. 

"You're about to mock me right now, aren't you?" 

"Yeah," Sam replied cheerfully. "But actually - I think I'll forego it, because it's cute." 

"Well, thanks." Josh looked down at the bottle in his hand, which was almost half empty. "Hey, good job, honey. Keep it up." He lifted the end of the bottle so that Cissy wasn't getting air, and watched her tiny hands bat at it. "So," he said casually, "why are we talking about this now? I mean, not that I mind, but . . ." 

Sam shrugged and concentrated on smoothing down Andrea's disheveled hair. "You know, Ainsley had a date tonight. Someone at work set her up with a friend of his." 

"Oh, yeah?" Josh sounded completely unconcerned with the details of Ainsley's love life, until he suddenly looked up from his daughter and said, beginning to laugh, "Wait. No way." 

"What?" Sam asked defensively. 

Josh shook his head, still chuckling. "I don't believe it. I mean, when she first showed up I thought maybe you'd have a wild two-month fling followed by the screaming breakup of the century, but - that was nine years ago, and you've been such buddies lately I thought . . . I mean, you've watched each other date, you've gone to the hairdresser with her, you've - slept in the same bed for Godsakes. *Now* you suddenly have a thing for her?" 

Sam shook his head. "It's not a thing." 

"Sure looks like it from here." 

"No." Andrea was falling asleep on his lap, and he adjusted her so that she was leaning against his chest. "I guess maybe I had a two-second 'thing' for her a long time ago, but - I had a thing for Mallory, and for a minute or so I think I even had a thing for Andy once -" 

"What?" Josh practically screeched. 

"It was of short duration," Sam swore. "It was a crazy moment, and it's way over." 

"Okay," Josh said, not sounding entirely sure. "Because you know, you're talking about a pregnant woman who's married to one of the scariest men ever." 

"Believe me, I know that." He stroked Andrea's head gently. "Should she go to bed?" 

"Yeah," Josh said softly. 

"You want to trade me?" 

"'Kay." Josh transferred Cissy, who was far too awake to go to bed, into Sam's lap and lifted Andrea. "I'll be back in a second, and then we're going to finish talking about the thing you don't have for Ainsley." 

"Can't wait." Sam looked down at Cissy as Josh headed upstairs. "Just you and me, pet." He brushed his fingers over the tip of her nose and watched her eyes try to follow his motions. "Your mom and dad are very lucky, you know that? And not just because of you guys. Yeah." He glanced up at the bookcase, where Josh and Donna's wedding picture sat between two smaller framed photos of each baby in the white baptism gown being held by her parents. Cissy's hand closed around his finger and he played a little game of tug-of-war with her until Josh came back. 

"Okay," he said as he sat down again. "Andrea's asleep, baby monitor is on - talk." 

"I don't have a thing for Ainsley," Sam said. 

"Then what were you just trying to tell me?" 

"I *was* trying to tell you - okay." He stopped and regrouped. "It's not - a thing is what you have for someone you might want to date, or have a - wild two-month fling with. This is not a thing." 

Josh's eyebrows went up. "Oh. Oh. Wow. Okay." 

"You get what I'm . . ." 

"Yeah, I think so." Still looking a little shellshocked, Josh reached over and petted Cissy's head. "Want to see if she'll finish the bottle?" 

Sam pursed his lips. "Would I have to touch it?" 

"Oh for the love of God, Sam. When Donna gets home you can touch her breast, if it'll make you feel better." Josh held out the bottle, and Sam took it delicately. 

"Well, pet?" He shook the bottle over Cissy's head so that the liquid sloshed around. "Want to try the rest? Sure you do." He finagled the nipple into her mouth and looked back up at Josh. "It's like - there wasn't a revelation. There was just - us." 

Josh frowned. "And she's out on a date?" 

Cissy fussed and turned her head so that the nipple slipped out of her mouth. Sam carefully put it back in and watched for her to start sucking. "Well - she doesn't exactly know that there's an us." 

"So you didn't mean . . . nothing happened, after we all left Hilton Head . . ." 

"No." 

"And since then . . ." 

"No." 

Josh leaned back into the couch and crossed his legs. "Have you told her?" 

Sam shook his head. "I'm easing into it." 

"Apparently very slowly." 

"When did you meet Donna again?" 

"Shut up." 

Sam grinned and adjusted the bottle. "Anyway. We had a talk, you know. She finally brought up the obvious . . . that both of us want families, and we both have train-wreck dating histories, so maybe we should . . ." 

"And?" 

"Basically I asked if that would be settling, and she started to cry. It wasn't until the next day that I realized I wanted . . . and then I knew if I said anything to her, she'd think I was just -" 

"Settling for her, and trying to cover it up?" 

"Exactly. Plus I didn't want to scare her. If she doesn't think we have that kind of relationship, I need to let it develop naturally, not chase her off." 

Josh nodded slowly. "Sounds - good, I guess." He cleared his throat. "So, you really are serious about this, huh?" 

"I'm pretty sure I am," Sam said quietly. He pried the empty bottle from Cissy's mouth and lifted her to his shoulder. 

"Take the cloth," Josh said, tossing a clean white cloth at Sam's shoulder. While Sam adjusted Cissy over the cloth, Josh asked carefully, "You aren't settling, are you? I mean, I know how much you like Ainsley, and how much you want kids and everything - is that what this is?" 

"No," Sam said firmly, patting Cissy's back. "It's - that's why I asked you all that, before." He stopped, planning his phrasing carefully. "When you all left South Carolina, we spent a lot of time together. Obviously. I feel so comfortable with her, you know?" 

"I know," Josh replied. 

"But what it is, is - we're connected. We have a connection. I feel like we're a pair. I feel like - I would be less without her, now." 

"Incomplete?" Josh suggested. 

"Yes." 

"Did you feel that way about Lisa?" 

"I don't think I did," Sam replied. Cissy started to fuss, and he rubbed her back as soothingly as he knew how. "Shh, honey. It's okay. It's okay." 

"Do you want your kids to be hers?" Josh asked bluntly. 

"I did think about that," Sam said. He started to jiggle Cissy a little. "Come on, pet. We're okay, here." He took a deep breath. "You know how, before you have someone, you imagine your hypothetical kids with your hypothetical wife, and you imagine them as completely perfect? And then when you make the decision to marry someone, you think, okay, that's it. The hypothetical is gone. The kids, they're not perfect little images anymore. They're going to be hers, this woman's. They're going to look like her, not like my imagination. You know what I mean?" 

"I don't, actually," Josh said softly. "Sorry. I never really imagined kids that weren't Donna's. I was a latecomer to the fatherhood thing." 

"You're doing okay," Sam murmured. Cissy was fussing more insistently now, and he said, "You know, I think she just wants Daddy. Here we are." He held her out to Josh and watched in awe as she calmed down in her father's arms. She still looked a little cranky, though, and was rubbing her eyes and making vaguely unhappy sounds. 

"I think she wants Donna, actually," Josh said, "but she'll have to settle for Daddy for now." 

"Anyway," Sam said. "I thought that, you know, about Ainsley. And I realized that was fine. I do want my kids to be hers." 

"Well, there you go," Josh said, sounding slightly surprised. "Wow. Ainsley's gonna be part of the family." 

Sam snorted. "I'm going to try, anyway." 

"Good luck, buddy." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam's phone rang soon after he arrived back at his apartment. After his long conversation with Josh, he was a little startled to hear Ainsley's voice. 

"You up for a coffee?" she asked. 

He glanced at his watch - nine forty-five. "Aren't you out with someone?" 

"Not anymore," she said meaningfully. 

He sighed and leaned back against the couch. "Oh, Ainsley." 

"I know, I know," she said. "Can you just come, please?" 

There was something in her voice he didn't like, and he immediately straightened up and said, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," she said, and he believed her. "Meet me?" 

He fervently prayed he wasn't going to be forever cast as the friend who picks up the pieces. 

When he arrived at the coffee shop she'd named, she was sitting at a table sipping from a cup bigger than the span of both her hands. Her feet were propped up on the chair opposite and she swung them to the floor when she saw him coming. "Hey," she said. 

"Hey," he replied, dropping into the chair. "You look good." 

She glanced down quickly at herself and said, "Thanks." 

He waved at the waitress and motioned for her to bring him whatever Ainsley was drinking. "So," he said, "what happened?" 

She rolled her eyes. "Brian picked a winner, let me tell you." 

"Brian's the guy from work?" 

"Yeah. He told me Adam had 'a way with women.' Well, he certainly does." 

He raised his eyebrows and motioned for her to continue. 

"We went to dinner early, seven-thirty. It was okay. We went to a bar. He had a couple drinks, started to get a little louder. Now, at dinner I thought \- I knew we weren't going to date, you know, but I thought he was nice and pleasant enough for one evening. After the drinks . . . I don't know. Aside from the whole getting drunk by nine-thirty issue - he was a little too touchy. I started to back off, but he wasn't getting the idea. I said I was going to go - he said no, he wanted me to dance with him first. I said no, and started to get my coat. He kind of grabbed me, around the middle, and pulled me over toward the dance floor. I had to fight him a little to get him to let go - then I left." 

He ignored the waitress setting down his coffee. "Ainsley," he said, sounding concerned. 

She held up both hands. "It's fine. I just - I was a little too wired to just go home, and I wanted to see you. That's all." 

"You should have decked him." 

She laughed. "I might have enjoyed that, but under the circumstances I chose not to piss him off." 

"You should at least take a swing at Brian from work," he said bitterly. 

"He can't have known his friend behaves this way," she said. "He's a nice guy." 

"How could he not know?" 

She shrugged. "I don't care that much." 

He took a deep breath. "Ainsley - I'm going to say something, and it's going to make you want to deck *me,* but - just, think about not doing that, okay?" 

"I'm listening," she said. 

Sam swallowed. "In the future, could you - maybe, not do the blind date thing? It's scary as hell out there." 

She nodded. "Yeah. Yes, it is." 

His eyes widened a little. "You're not going to yell at me?" 

"Nope." She shook her head enough that her hair flipped over her shoulder. 

"Did this guy scare you that much?" he asked, somewhat horrified. 

"No," she said, managing a laugh. "I'm not mad at you." 

"Why not?" 

"You really are a masochist, aren't you?" she said, lifting her cup to her lips. "Or do you just enjoy making me mad?" 

"The first, I think," he said. 

She put the cup down and offered him a smile. "I'd be mad if I thought you were trying to tell me what to do - which, I'm guessing, is why you expected me to yell at you." He nodded, and she continued, "I know there's a difference between that and being concerned. I think you're just concerned." 

"I am," he said quietly. "Honestly, I'm kind of terrified at the idea of you going out with guys you don't know who turn aggressive when they drink." He prayed he was managing to keep any deeper emotions off his face. 

"Hey, I'm not thrilled with it, either," she said. 

"So don't do it anymore?" he asked. 

She looked back at him, and they faced off for a few moments before she finally said, "Sam, you of all people know how hard it is . . ." 

"I know," he said, but he didn't back down. She didn't say anything, but only lifted her coffee cup again. 

He was seized with the urge - the need, really - to dive over the table, wrap her in his arms, and make her swear never to be with anyone who wasn't him ever again. Instead he gritted his teeth and asked, "You want to head home?" 

She had taken the Metro to meet the guy, and so he drove her home. He got out and walked her to her door, waiting while she fiddled with her keys. "Thanks for coming," she said as she opened the door. 

"Anytime," he replied softly. He reached out and took her free hand. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine," she said firmly. She stepped closer and he hugged her tightly, releasing her in a hurry when she made a noise that sounded a lot like an "ouch" she'd tried to muffle. He stepped back and asked, "What was that?" 

She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know, something hurt." She reached up and smoothed the front of his shirt. "Guess I have sensitive ribs." 

"It was your back?" he asked, running his fingers gently over the back of her light jacket. 

"Yeah - ow." She jumped away from his fingers, then looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I must have bumped - what are you doing?" 

He was turning her around and lifting the back of her shirt. "I'm looking \- oh my God." 

"What?" she asked, trying to twist around and look over her shoulder. 

"He 'kind of grabbed' you?" he asked in disbelief. "You have a bruise on your ribs here the size of a walnut." 

"Big walnut, or small walnut?" 

"It's really not funny, Ainsley," he said. 

"I know. I know," she said. She pulled out of his grip and smoothed her shirt and jacket back down. "Look, it's okay. He was drunk, he didn't have control, and I'm never going to see him again. It's not a problem. It was an accident, I must just bruise easily." She placed her hands on his shoulders. "You don't work at the White House anymore, Sam, you can't have him killed." 

Instead of trying to answer he pulled her close and hugged her again, careful to avoid the bruised spot. He was within a breath of throwing the plan out the window, burying his face in her neck, and begging her to marry him on the spot. He managed only to murmur in an unsteady voice, "I don't want to let go of you." 

She stepped back and looked at him. "I'm hesitating here because I just had a date with someone else, and I don't want to feel loose, but . . ." 

"Can I come in?" he asked, saving her the trouble. 

"Do you want to stay?" she returned. 

He knew she wasn't offering any more than they had shared nearly a month ago at the beach, but for right now that was something. It was a connection, a chance to show her that he cared, and it meant he could feel as if he were keeping her safe. "Okay," he said, following her into the apartment. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The fall session of Congress had started with a vengeance the second they all returned from the August recess. Even now, almost a month in, people were still wrangling to be the first ones to get something new introduced, and the committees were meeting overtime to accomodate the members who had issues to propose. Sam, Andy, Donna, and another young aide named Paul found themselves meeting often with Judiciary over the internet pornography legislation, often enough that some days they spent more time in the committee offices than in Andy's suite. 

This, of course, meant that Sam ran into Ainsley more often than he would have if he'd stayed in Andy's office in another building. He liked seeing her, of course, although Donna (from whom Josh could have no secrets) teased him about the way his face lit up when he saw her. In his frustrated moments he wondered how everyone could notice that except Ainsley. The old familiar pull in his chest was back whenever he saw her across the room, although he supposed it must be better now - at least he knew what he needed. 

On this particular day, fatefully, Donna and Paul had other things on their schedules and Sam had gone alone with Andy to meet with other members of the committee. They walked carefully, as they needed to do nowadays, leaving early so that they could take their time. He held her arm on stairs as if terrified that she would fall on his watch, and she laughed at him for being a mother hen. But she was seven and a half months now and big enough that her jackets wouldn't cover her stomach, and she was wearing terrible shoes. 

The committee meeting room, which they were using even for today's informal discussion, was not exactly in the same place as the staff offices and they didn't run into Ainsley on their way in. Sam seated himself, not around the wall with some of the other aides, but at the table beside Andy. All the members were not present, there was room, he had some of her notes, and they both wore expressions defying anyone to object. 

Embarrassingly, his cell phone rang four minutes into the meeting. With an apologetic nod to the chairman and a pat to Andy's shoulder, he stepped out into the hall. 

It was Paul. "Hey, Sam," he said in a voice that indicated he knew he was interrupting a meeting. "Do you know what Andrea wants to do about press conferences?" 

"Press conferences in general?" Sam asked. 

"For the judicial nominees. I have something here that the Democratic members are having a press conference next week on the Superior Court nominees, and I didn't know -" 

"Yeah, she doesn't want to be there," Sam said. "The issue isn't worth the TV time - she doesn't want to be on camera right now unless it's something big. And anyway we're keeping her away from the pecking - she can be partisan when it looks dignified, but this . . ." 

"Okay. But what about -" 

Whatever Paul was going to say, or did say, next was cut off by a voice Sam recognized as Senator Ruhl's calling loudly from inside the room, "Senator Wyatt? Senator Wyatt!" 

Sam would have thought it was a particularly rampageous argument, until he heard the usually calm and composed elderly Senator McLucas call, "Andrea!" quite loudly. He burst back into the room, leaving Paul hanging on the other end of the phone call. 

Andy had gone very pale and a little green and was breathing oddly, both hands clasping the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. Three of the other senators had clustered around her chair; McLucas was trying to pry one of her hands off the table and was asking whether he should call someone. 

"Sam!" Senator Ruhl had noticed his reappearance and was looking extremely relieved. "She was talking, and then she just - stopped. I think maybe . . ." 

"Andy?" Sam asked, crossing the room in three steps and not caring about what he called her in front of other people. He knelt beside her so that he could talk more quietly. "Is it a cramp? Are you sick?" She shook her head vigorously with her lips pressed into a tight line, which seemed to be the most she could manage. He swallowed hard. "Is it time for the baby?" She nodded briefly, and he sighed and wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Okay. Okay. Sit tight, I'm going to take care of everything." 

He realized suddenly that Paul was still on the phone, and by the time he lifted it to his ear the poor kid was calling, "Sam! Sam! Is something wrong? Is something happening? Sam?" 

"Paul!" he said, relieved that this part of it at least could be put on someone else. "Paul, listen. Andy's having the baby." 

"Right now?" Paul asked in horror. 

"Well, hopefully not right now, because that would mean delivering in the committee room." 

"She's not supposed to have it until November!" 

"Sometimes these things happen." He didn't add that they probably happened a lot more when you were having your first child at forty-four. "You weren't around then, but Donna's first baby was even earlier. It'll be okay. But you need to call Toby. He's working from home today, so his cell won't be on - you have to call the house. Tell him to meet us at Georgetown. Make sure you tell him I'm with her and everything's fine. Okay?" 

"Georgetown," Paul repeated, sounding a little nervous. Sam didn't really blame him, but he didn't have time to feel bad. He hung up. 

McLucas had managed to get hold of one of Andy's hands and was squeezing it gently. She appeared to be between contractions; her face had relaxed a little and the greenish tinge was slightly faded. "Paul's calling Toby," he told her. Then the next problem slapped him in the face. He began to catalogue the staff - he had walked to work today, Toby had dropped Andy off, Donna took the Metro, so did most of the other aides, Nola's husband at State dropped her off . . . they didn't have any cars. 

He thought fast. He was not putting Andy in a taxi. Of course someone would be willing to drive them, but . . . most of the committee members would have to call a staffer, get him or her to get a car; it could take forever. Or he could just call Ainsley, who worked down the hall and drove to work almost every day. It wasn't an excuse; under the circumstances she was the fastest choice. 

A man answered the phone in the committee offices, and Sam tried to control the shaking in his voice as he asked for Ainsley. 

"I think she's speaking with someone at the moment," the man said calmly, "can I tell her you called?" 

"Is she in the office?" Sam asked. 

"Sir, she's here, but she's . . ." 

"Look, you need to interrupt her. I swear you won't get in trouble. Tell her it's Sam Seaborn. It's an emergency - not a work emergency, an actual emergency. Tell her it's Andy." He figured the staffer wouldn't know who 'Andy' was, but Ainsley would. 

"Um, okay," the guy said hesitatingly. If he didn't get Ainsley fast, Sam was prepared to run down the hall and bust into the office. Fortunately, she picked up the phone a moment later. "Sam?" She sounded nervous. 

"Ainsley," he said, glancing over his shoulder. Andy appeared to be having another contraction. "Andy's in labor -" 

"Oh my God. In the office?" 

"Better than that - in the committee room." 

"Oh God." 

"Yeah. I'm really sorry but - we don't have a car. She needs to go to the hospital now. Can we -" 

"I'm coming," she said immediately, and hung up the phone. 

He slipped the phone into its clip and dropped to one knee beside Andy. "Ainsley's coming," he said, gripping the hand that Senator McLucas wasn't holding. "We're going to take you to the hospital right away." 

Andy nodded weakly, and he squeezed her hand tighter. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked gently. 

She nodded, looking a little bit as though she might be sick, and he nodded back. "Okay. It's okay. Ainsley will be here any second, and we'll go and get you some drugs." Andy managed to smile at that. 

As if on cue, Ainsley appeared at the door. "Sam?" she called, ignoring the room filled with senators. "My car is in the garage downstairs. We can take her right down the near elevator." 

"Okay," he said, temporary relief washing over him. He nodded his head toward Andy. "Could you . . ." 

"Oh, sure." Ainsley quickly crossed the room and replaced McLucas on Andy's other side, and between the two of them they got her gently to her feet. 

"Can you walk?" Sam asked softly. Andy nodded. Senator McLucas patted her arm and said kindly, "Good luck, Andrea. And someone better call my office when this baby is born." Several of the other senators in the room chorused, "Mine, too," which made Andy smile. 

Ainsley brilliantly managed to get them through the mid-day traffic at record speed. Sam sat in the back with Andrea, holding her hand and now trying to time her contractions. "Wow, this is going fast," he said, staring at his watch. "Five minutes." 

"It started a little while ago - I thought it was just cramping," Andy muttered. She squeezed his hand tightly. "Of all the things I didn't want to happen - making a scene in committee was high on the list." She looked about ready to cry. 

He put his watch down on the seat and reached up to stroke her hair. "It's okay. You couldn't control it. This baby is ready to come, and there was nothing you could do about that." She leaned into his touch, and he settled her with her head on his shoulder. "We'll get you into a bed, and you can relax, get something for the pain, and just wait for your baby. Everything's going to be fine." He hoped. 

"Not my most professional moment," she groaned quietly. 

"It'll be okay. Those guys like you. They're not going to run to the press saying Andrea Wyatt is a girly wimp." He felt her laugh against his shoulder. 

Ainsley came to a near-screeching halt in front of the emergency entrance to Georgetown and Sam carefully bundled Andy out of the car. "I'll be in as soon as I park," Ainsley promised. 

A nurse caught sight of them and rushed over with a wheelchair, establishing quickly that this was Andy's hospital and that her doctor was in residence here. Once Sam explained that he was not the father he got left in the dust, but Andy said quickly, "I don't think my husband is here yet; can Sam please stay?" 

The nurse looked kind; she smiled and said to Sam, "We're going to take her up and get her changed and settled in a room. You can come sit with her after she's settled." 

"Great," Sam said. He bent and kissed Andy on the cheek and said, "I'll wait right here for Ainsley and we'll be up as soon as you're ready for us." 

Toby was closer to the hospital than the Hill was, but he had rushed around packing Andy's bag for the hospital and getting some of the baby things together. It was too much in advance for them to have prepared. Sam and Ainsley had been watching TV with Andy for about fifteen minutes by the time Toby arrived, overnight bag over his shoulder and looking completely panicked. 

He dropped the bag on a table and bent to kiss Andy, squeezing her hand tightly. When his gaze shifted to Sam and Ainsley he said sincerely, "Thank you. Thank you so much. Is everything okay?" he asked all of them generally. 

"The nurse was just here," Ainsley answered, since Andy appeared to have another contraction coming on. "They were able to give Andy something to take the edge off. She said it should be a few more hours." 

"Okay," Toby said, looking a little bewildered. Sam and Ainsley both stood, and Sam motioned Toby into his chair beside the bed. "Now that you're here, we'll go wait," Sam said. "Anything you need, if we go out for a few minutes?" 

Toby shook his head, and Sam and Ainsley hustled out of the room. 

They were both quiet and subdued, worn out from the frantic rush and the worry. For a while they sat in the waiting room, both with cell phones out, alerting and reassuring Josh, Donna, C.J., Andy's brother, Toby's family that Sam knew, Leo . . . Finally they sank into silence, sitting side-by-side and watching the waiting room television. 

Several reruns later, Sam checked in with Toby. They still had some time to go, Andy was getting frustrated but was doing all right. He took Ainsley to a nearby deli so they could grab dinner and bring a sandwich back for Toby, and by six they were back in their seats in front of the TV. 

Donna and Josh arrived at six-thirty, explaining that they had gone to Ginger's to feed and hug the girls and then left them there. They couldn't stay long, but they wanted to wait for a while just in case the baby came soon. Ginger sent her love. 

By seven-thirty they were trying to beat each other at Jeopardy, and Ainsley was resting across Sam's lap. He stroked his fingers through her hair, all the time keeping an eye on his watch. Andy had been in labor for about nine and a half hours. 

He noticed out of the corner of his eye a little flurry, and two nurses hurrying past the room. About five minutes later Toby appeared, beaming uncharacteristically. "We're done," he announced as they all got to their feet. 

They were all still there, and it was early, so Toby said they could wait until Andy had been moved to a regular room and then they could see the baby. It was another fifteen minutes before a nurse came to get them. "This is a little unorthodox, but Mr. Ziegler says you're all family," she said as they all walked down the hall. 

"Yup," Josh agreed, walking with his arm around Donna's waist. 

Andy looked up and grinned when she saw them. "I can't believe you all waited," she said, sounding tired. 

They all walked slowly toward the bed, peering into the pink-wrapped bundle in Andy's arms. She held the baby up to Sam, who was the closest, and he took her gently and turned her around for the others to see. 

"Look, her hair is red," Donna said immediately. She reached out and stroked a tiny red fist with the back of her finger. The baby made a choked coughing sound and opened her mouth wide. "And she has Andy's nose. Are her eyes blue?" 

"Yeah," Toby said proudly. "She only opened them for a second, but they're bright blue." 

"She's beautiful," Sam murmured, carefully working one hand free to stroke the baby's face. "This is beginning to be a familiar scene," he commented with a smile, looking up at Josh and Donna. 

"I promise you that we're done for a while," Donna said dryly. She looked over at Andy. "Does she have a name yet?" 

"Is it Eunice?" Josh asked. 

Andy laughed. "It's Caroline." 

"Oh, that's perfect," Donna said. She took one of the little hands between her fingers and said softly, "Pleased to meet you, Caroline." 

"Caroline what?" Sam asked. 

"Caroline Wyatt Ziegler," Toby replied. "What else?" 

"Sounds very aristocratic," Ainsley commented, reaching out to touch the small foot that had worked its way out of the blanket. 

"Well, she's a senator's daughter, after all," Sam whispered, rocking the baby back and forth. "I predict she's going to be the most popular child in the press in about ten minutes." 


	13. Epiphany 13

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Sam could keep reporters away from Andy, but he couldn't stop photographers from camping out in front of the hospital. The Sunday Post Style section ran a photo of Andy and Toby leaving the hospital with Caroline, Sam in tow. Neither new parent was expecting pictures to be taken; Toby was wearing jeans and Andy had thrown on a pair of sweatpants for the ride home. It was, at any rate, a nice photo. Andy was smiling enough to offset the thoughtful scowl on her husband's face, and enough of the baby blanket had fallen away to show Caroline's little face to the camera. 

When Sam returned to work on Monday, there was a manila envelope on his desk marked Do Not Bend. Inside was a full color print of the shot of the new family, with a note from their old friend Danny Concannon. He had apparently wrangled the photo out of the Style editor. Sam made a mental note to thank Danny and buy a frame to present to Andy. 

Senator McLucas at his door surprised him, but he recovered quickly. "Senator," he said, setting down the photograph. "Good morning. And thank you again for all your help on Thursday. I know Senator Wyatt appreciated your concern." 

"I had a message Friday morning at the office that she had a healthy daughter," the senator replied, hovering in the doorway. 

Sam reached for the photo again and held it out. "Yes, sir. Here she is. Her name is Caroline." 

Senator McLucas peered closely at the photo. "It's hard to make out much, but she looks like a little redhead to me. She's going to look exactly like Andrea, isn't she?" 

"Yes, sir, I think so," Sam replied with a grin. 

"Well, that's a mercy, isn't it?" Senator McLucas joked. He handed the photo back to Sam. "You give her my congratulations, son." 

"I'm sure she'd like to hear from you," Sam said. 

"I'll be sure and stop in when she comes back to work. Don't want to call the house and disturb them - wouldn't want to mess with Toby Ziegler." 

"That's probably wise," Sam laughed. "Senator Wyatt is coming back to work on Thursday." 

"A week? She's only taking a week off?" 

Sam shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly a regular job, is it?" 

"I suppose not," the senator replied. "Anyway, you tell her to take good care of that little girl, and herself." 

"I'll do that," Sam replied. 

The senator had been gone only about half an hour when Ainsley appeared at his door. "Just came to say hello," she said cheerfully. 

He held up the picture from Danny. "Did you see this?" 

"In the paper," she said, taking it from him. "The one I saw wasn't in color." 

"Danny Concannon sent this copy." 

"I always liked him," Ainsley said, studying the photo. "Andy just glows, doesn't she?" 

"She certainly does." Sam chuckled. "And then there's Toby." 

"Well, he's scowling and hovering," she said. "Judging by my family, that makes him a perfect father." 

"Yup. Caroline is never going to date." 

"Oh, and Cissy and Andrea are?" She looked at him critically as she set the photo back on the desk. "Somehow I don't see you as being that way, though." 

"That way?" 

"Frightening off prom dates? I think you'd be more the type to bond with your daughters' boyfriends. Watch football with them, or something." 

"Not if they were little punks," he said. "Then there would be some frightening taking place." 

She smiled warmly at him. "Yeah, I believe that." She nodded toward the door and said, "Well, back to work. I'll see you tonight?" 

"Definitely." They were going to see Caroline, and Josh and Donna were bringing the girls to meet her - after three days of isolation to make sure neither of them had a cold or any other germs. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

When Andrea Lyman got her first sight of Caroline, she pointed and said, sounding confused, "Cissy?" 

Donna laughed and bounced her daughter on her hip. "No, honey, that's not Cissy. Cissy's right over there with Daddy. This is Caroline." 

"Cissy," Andrea insisted, waving her fingers at the new baby. 

Josh carried Cissy over so that Andrea could see both the babies at the same time. "Andrea, baby, here's Cissy. Here's your sister. And this is Caroline. Caroline isn't our baby, she's Aunt Andy and Uncle Toby's." He glanced up at Andy. "But she can be your sister too, you know. You and Cissy, you can be Caroline's sisters." 

Andrea wasn't getting any of this, but Andy had turned her head away to brush the tears from her eyes. "Sorry," she apologized, "hormones." 

Donna went over and put her free arm around Andy, cradling little Andrea against her body with her other hand. Andy leaned her head on Donna's shoulder and hugged her back, watching out of the corner of her eye as Josh laid Cissy on the couch beside Caroline's baby seat and tickled them both. 

There was a point when Sam offered to go get glasses from the kitchen, and Ainsley went out to help him. "Did I miss something?" she whispered when they were alone. "Why was Andy crying?" 

Sam shrugged. "I'm not completely sure. My guess is that she doesn't expect to be able to have any more children . . ." 

"So Caroline won't have any real sisters," Ainsley finished. "Okay. I probably should have thought of that." 

"Toby did say we were family," Sam said, beaming at her. Then he had a weird moment where he remembered Josh saying that Ainsley was going to be part of the family. He coughed and said, "Let's get back." 

In contrast to baby Andrea's quiet calm and Cissy's fussier personality, Caroline was cheerful and vocal. She had found her voice sometime during her second day of life and hadn't stopped since, babbling strings of syllables with no consonants and occasionally emitting little yelps that made her mother jump attentively. 

"She's having a fascinating conversation with herself," Josh commented, watching Caroline try to hold onto his thumb as he rocked her on his lap. 

"Yes," Toby agreed, shifting Cissy up on his own shoulder, "it seems that making her ourselves was the only way to come up with someone who talks more than Andy." 

Josh ignored the fake-slapping match that took place between husband and wife off to his left; he was watching Caroline try to watch him. "Her eyes are almost following me," he said, waving his finger experimentally. "They're not supposed to focus this early; she's a brilliant girl." 

"They all are," Toby replied as he lifted Cissy over his head and watched her laugh. "These three are going to blow this town apart when the time comes." 

"Toby, what are you going to do when Caroline decides to become a biologist?" Ainsley teased. "Or an actress?" 

"Send her to some kind of reprogramming camp," Andy suggested, laughing. "I've heard if you catch those things young enough, they can be fixed." 

Andy had a fresh roll of film and they carefully posed the three little girls on the couch, Cissy and Caroline propped up by pillows and Andrea between them sitting up proudly. Her hand was on her sister's head when they took the picture. Andy promised everyone copies and slipped around the room for the rest of the evening taking shots of everyone holding Caroline, Caroline lying across her father's lap, Andrea experimentally touching Caroline's hand. 

"We'll have to do this every year," Toby said quietly to Sam as they watched Andy with the camera. "You know, line them all up in their little - ballet costumes, or something." 

Sam grinned and bounced Cissy, who was lying calmly on his lap. "A whole row of Lyman and Ziegler girls in little tutus? I'm going to be waiting to see that." 

Toby reached over and poked a finger into Cissy's curled-up fist. "We managed to come up with a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. It'll be like a Norman Rockwell painting." 

Across the room in Donna's arms Caroline started to cry, and Donna handed her off to her mother. "Feeding time, I think," Andy said. She glanced over at Donna and Ainsley. "Want to keep me company?" 

When the women had gone upstairs, Josh came and sat closer to Sam and Toby with his older daughter dancing on his lap. Sam burst out laughing and even Toby cracked a smile at the sight of Andrea bouncing up and down, carefully supported by her father's arms. "Wait till Caroline gets to be a year and a half," Josh said to Toby. "They're nuts at this age." 

Toby reached over and tried to smooth down Andrea's curls, which were sticking up in every possible direction. "Look at this," he said with a small laugh, "it's the first time I've seen her look like you." 

"Oh, very cute," Josh replied. He bent down near his daughter's ear and whispered, "Andrea, if you get the urge to kick anybody, aim for Uncle Toby." Andrea grinned and bounced merrily, oblivious to what was going on. 

"Toby's decided your daughters are going to ballet together," Sam said. 

Josh held Andrea's hands out to the sides and watched her try to lift one foot, then the other. "She's practicing already," he said. 

"Swan Lake, here we come," Sam replied. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The photo on the refrigerator reminded Sam he had been back in Washington politics for two years, although it itself had nothing to do with politics. It showed three tiny girls, none of whom had existed when he first came back, all dressed in little Halloween costumes and propped up on Josh and Donna's couch. Caroline's face was starting to scrunch up; she had objected to the little hat part of her pumpkin costume and had started to wail only seconds after the picture was taken. 

He pulled his black suit jacket on and buttoned it neatly over his tie. They had a dinner that night, Andy and Toby and some of her staff, along with other Democratic members of the Judiciary Committee. Sam was taking great pleasure in bringing Ainsley as his date, not only for the obvious reasons, but because they both rather enjoyed flaunting their friendship to the Republican and Democratic staffers. Both had flatly ignored the occasional bitter-sounding warning from other staffers that their relationship might get in the way of future political opportunities, choosing instead to believe the friends who said no one really cared. 

He picked Ainsley up five minutes early, laughing to himself in the living room while she finished applying makeup. "I hear you laughing out there," she yelled from the bathroom. "I had this timed to the second. It's not my fault you're early." 

"I was just so excited to see you, I couldn't wait another second," he called back. 

She called something he couldn't understand and he asked, "What?" 

"Sorry, I was putting on lipstick," she called back. "I said did you talk to Donna?" 

"I talked to Josh," he replied, finally taking a seat on the couch. "Leo and Margaret are both there already, Andy and Toby dropped off Caroline, Andy looks beautiful - and Margaret got engaged." 

Ainsley's heels clicked on the floor behind him. "She what?" 

He turned to look at her and grinned. "Wow. So there was a reason I was waiting." 

She waved off his commentary. "Later. Margaret got engaged?" 

"To a big-time DOJ prosecutor," he confirmed. "His name is Jeff, they've been dating for almost a year, and she has absolutely no good excuse for why none of us have met him." 

"That's great," she said, getting her coat out of the closet. "I mean, not that you haven't met him, but . . . it's great for Margaret." She turned and frowned thoughtfully, slipping her coat over her shoulders before he could get up and help her. "Wait. Jeff O'Connell?" 

"You know him?" Sam asked. 

"He was at Harvard Law two years ahead of me. My roommate knew him from undergrad; I run into him a couple times a year. Nice guy." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Cute, too." 

"And you never . . ." 

"He's six foot three," Ainsley said dryly. "Can you picture that?" 

He laughed shortly, finally getting up off the couch and opening the door for her. "No, but he sounds perfect for Margaret." 

"I think he would get her," she replied. She flashed him a huge smile. "Let's go." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Andy did indeed look beautiful, in a long blue dress that proved she had started to lose the baby weight. She was surrounded by other senators and they were all talking loudly, with a lot of arm-waving and sharp gestures. The only difference between her and them was her habit of glancing nervously at Toby, who was sitting at a table with Josh. When Sam joined them, Toby nodded at his wife and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Margaret has this number," he explained, "and Andy's positive she's going to call any second." 

"It's the first time she's left Caroline at night," Sam said, sitting down and watching Ainsley take a seat beside him. 

Toby threw up his arms. "It's the first time I've left Caroline at night, too!" 

"But you get to hold the phone," Ainsley pointed out. 

Toby snorted. "If she had pockets in that thing, she'd be holding it, believe me." 

Sam smelled a familiar perfume behind him and glanced up to see Donna joining them. She sat down gracefully beside her husband and said, "Toby, you can relax for a second or two. I called Leo and everything's fine." 

Josh raised an eyebrow. "You called Leo? Honey, we left twenty-five minutes ago." 

Josh didn't often use terms of endearment in public, and Sam had to hide his smile. Donna rolled her eyes and said, "I know, but I realized I forgot to tell him about Andrea's blanket. You know she'd start to fuss and he wouldn't know she wanted it." 

Andy was coming toward them, and Toby cupped his hands around his mouth and mock-yelled, "Donna called Leo and everything's fine. They're taking the kids to the racetrack." 

"You're hilarious," she said. "Come dance with me." 

"Andy . . ." 

"Come dance with me and get me away from that crowd before I punch one of them." 

He slid down further in his chair. "Andrea . . ." 

"Toby Ziegler, get up and dance with me right now." 

Toby got to his feet reluctantly, glared at Sam as if daring him to say something, and took Andy's hand to lead her out on the dance floor. Donna said, "Josh," in a tone that wasn't a question, and he stood with a big smile on his face and took his wife's hand. 

Sam turned to Ainsley and flashed her his most winning smile. She looked back at him curiously. "Are you high?" she asked. 

"Just get up and dance with me," he grumbled, standing and holding out his hand. 

They had been dancing about half a song when Josh and Donna swung over and Josh announced, "Partner trade." Sam wound up with an armful of Donna before he was quite sure what was happening, and she was laughing and taking his hand. "I'm supposed to ask you what's going on," she said as they eased back into the rhythm of the song. 

"What's going on?" 

"You know," she said, jerking her head toward Josh and Ainsley. 

"I'm almost positive nothing is going on with Josh and Ainsley," Sam replied blandly. "Although you're right, she does have 'homewrecker' written all over her." 

"You're a scream," Donna said. "And you know what I meant." 

"I'm serious, next she'll be trying to make the kids like her - you better watch Cissy, she's young and vulnerable." 

"Sam," Donna whined. 

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing is going on." 

"Why?" 

"Donna!" 

"I'm just saying . . ." 

"You of all people should know the importance of slow." 

"Sometimes slow is good," she replied. "And sometimes it's just slow. I mean, we were slow, and look at us. Andrea could be about eight by now." 

"But then she might not be Andrea," Sam said. "She would have been another child altogether. Different egg, different . . ." 

"Okay, stop," she said. "My point is - slow is fine, but you can't wait forever." 

"Believe me, I actually do know that," he replied. 

She smiled, and then laid her head on his shoulder. "Not that you aren't the best possible godfather in the world, and we love the way you are with Andrea and Cissy, but it's definitely time. You are not the lifelong bachelor uncle type." 

"I *know*," he said. "I swear to God, Donna, I know." 

She reached up and rubbed his shoulder. "I know. Sorry." 

He pulled her closer, bent down and kissed her hair. "Thanks for the pep talk, anyway." 

"I try." 

"Can I have my wife back?" 

Sam looked up and grinned at Josh. "Nope. I've fallen in love." 

"I'm not worried," Josh replied, his arm still around Ainsley's waist. "Eventually she'll want to come back for the kids." 

Sam released Donna with a smile. "Yeah, there is that." He held out his hand to Ainsley and pulled her back into a loose dance position. 

Ainsley was laughing as they watched Josh and Donna dance off. "You know," she said, "I danced with Josh at the second inaugural in 2002, and all he could talk about was which senator was where and who was going to be talking about what in the morning. Tonight I got the lowdown on the search for a preschool." 

"It's serious," Sam replied. "They have to pick one next year and get her on the waiting list." 

"They have waiting lists for preschool?" 

"At the good ones." 

"When my oldest niece was going to preschool they signed her up three weeks before school started," Ainsley said. "They sent her to the one at the church." 

"Nothing wrong with that." 

"Well, Julia turned out okay." 

He tugged her closer and leaned over her shoulder. "Your sister named her daughters Julia and Dixie? Was she a - big 'Designing Women' fan?" 

"First of all, I find your recollection of 'Designing Women' to be somewhat troubling," Ainsley said. 

"It was a quality show." 

"We always liked it." 

"Annie Potts was my favorite." 

"I liked her, too," Ainsley said. "And secondly, she named her daughters Julia, Ruth, and Mary Alice. My brother-in-law started calling the little one Dixie." 

"They must be cute." 

"They are cute," she replied. "So are their brothers." 

"That would be John Boy and Jimmy-Joe?" 

She smacked his chest and tried visibly not to laugh. "Billy and Danny." 

He noticed that he was dancing her into a corner of the ballroom, toward the cover of a couple of pillars, and decided he was okay with that. He slipped his arm further around her and let his hand drift up over her shoulder blades, left bare by her strapless dress. She tucked their joined hands under her chin for a second and smiled up at him. "Everything okay?" she asked. 

"Yes," he nodded. He glanced over her shoulder - no one was looking. He bent his head and kissed her cheek, then pulled back slightly, deciding he could bide his time. "They're sitting down for dinner," he said, tugging on her hand. 

Margaret called once on Toby's cell phone during dinner, only to reassure both sets of parents. Caroline was asleep; Cissy was not, and Leo was walking her around the house. Andrea was watching Muppet videos and dancing merrily while holding onto the coffee table; Margaret was hoping she'd tire herself out. "Good luck," Josh muttered when Toby repeated the message. 

There was dancing again after dinner had been cleared; Senator McLucas came to claim Andy and waltzed her off, asking eager questions about Caroline. Josh snuck off to chat at another table, and Toby willingly stood up to dance with Donna. Sam pulled Ainsley back onto the floor, quietly thanking all the forces that had left them alone. They talked casually about the girls, about Andy, about the committee - avoiding topics that might become contentious, as they usually did. 

If Ainsley noticed that they were aiming for the pillars again, she didn't say anything, but he suspected she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in their dance trajectory. He twirled her cheerfully, drawing out information he'd never heard before about her nieces and nephews, making her promise to pull out the photos the next time they were in her apartment. He waited until they had fallen quiet again to pull her closer, dancing with her in silence and letting the instrumental music fill the gap instead. 

When she leaned her head on his shoulder, he took a deep breath and tightened his arms, bending his head down closer to hers. He was close enough to smell her skin, to feel the warmth radiating off her shoulder. When she didn't respond in any noticeable way, he took another deep breath and turned his head to kiss her cheek. He stroked his fingers over the back of the hand he was holding, lowered his head and kissed her jaw, then the side of her neck. His eyes flickered up; no one was watching them and they had some cover from a fairly thick pillar. 

He placed light, not intense, not threatening in any way, kisses along her bare shoulder, down to her collarbone, over the edge of the bone that showed at her shoulder. She didn't respond except to turn her head slightly and lean her forehead on his chest. He lowered his head, rested against her shoulder and breathed in the warm smell of her skin. After a second he felt her hand slide gently up to the side of his neck, and she whispered softly, "People are going to look." 

"They aren't," he said, but he pulled back slightly and straightened up. Her hand still against his neck reassured him that she wasn't stepping back, and she lifted her head and met his eyes with a look he couldn't quite read. Before he could say anything, she leaned her head down on his shoulder again. 

He closed his eyes briefly, hoping he hadn't done the wrong thing. It didn't seem that way. He lifted his hand to her hair and stroked it carefully \- keeping in mind that they were at a formal function and she probably wouldn't want it mussed - and asked quietly, "Tired?" 

"A little," she murmured, shifting against him. 

He glanced at his watch. "It's almost ten. Josh and Donna and Andy and Toby will be leaving then to send Margaret and Leo home, we can take off with them." 

"Okay." 

They didn't speak much for the rest of the dance, or when Sam spotted Josh giving him the 'let's go' sign. He drove her home in a little too much quiet, which for the first time felt uncomfortable between them. He put it down to natural tension, there was something between them that they hadn't talked about. Yet. He had a feeling they would. After all, it was him and Ainsley. 

When he walked her to the door, she nodded her head into the apartment and let him in almost reluctantly. After shedding her coat, she sat down on the couch and seemed to be staring at her knees. He sat down carefully beside her, waiting for her to say something. 

When she lifted her head and looked at him, she had an extraordinarily forced smile on her face. "So," she said, "everyone survived Andy and Toby's first night out." 

He nodded, willing to go along. "Yeah, they didn't even look that nervous." 

"Margaret must have had her hands full. Three baby girls and Leo." 

"Yeah, it's funny how Josh and Toby were under the impression that Leo would take some of the burden off Margaret." 

"He is good with the girls, though." 

"Sure he is. He misses Mal being that small. I saw him last week and I must have looked at twenty pictures of his grandson." 

"Is he cute?" 

"He's very cute. He'll be two next month." 

She nodded and looked at him for a second. "Sam . . ." 

"Yeah." He shifted a little closer to her on the couch. "Can I just . . . ?" Before she could say anything, and without actually finishing the question, he leaned over and kissed her. 

The kiss went on slightly longer than he had intended, and by the time they separated she had lifted her hands to his arms and started to kiss him back. He leaned his forehead against hers and took her hands, tangling his fingers with hers. "Just - don't say anything for a second, okay?" he said. "I know - you don't think this is us, but I really think we should give it a shot. I think we could be good together. And it's not because - I mean, I feel \- I . . ." He didn't know what else to say, really, so he hid his face in her shoulder and said quietly, "I really need you." 

"Sam," she said, pulling back to look him in the eye. 

"Hmm?" 

She shook her head, smiling a little. "Shut up." Then she leaned in and kissed him. 

When they separated a moment later, she said, "I have to say, that was a very cute and almost coherent moment just then." 

"Shut up," he replied, kissing her again. 

This time when she pulled away she rested her head on his shoulder and murmured, "Sam - I'm so, so tired right now." He laughed and she asked softly, "You want to stay?" 

"Should I?" he asked. 

She nodded against him. "I'm really not awake enough for it to be an issue, honestly. We can hammer all that out later. I just want you to stay." 

"How much hammering are we going to need to do?" he asked. 

"Shut up," she grumbled. 

"Just wondering." 

"Come on," she said, standing up and tugging him to his feet. 

"This is starting out as a very adversarial relationship," he commented. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you coming?" 

"Okay, yes." 


	14. Epiphany 14

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

The first thing Sam heard when they stepped onto the porch was, "He's blind! My God, they're all blind!" 

He turned to Ainsley with a dry smile. "Sounds like the game is going well." 

"Oh yeah." 

"Think Oklahoma has a chance this year?" he asked her, half joking. 

"Absolutely," she replied. "I think they're gonna kick Alaska's butt." 

"Okay, you were kidding about that, right?" he asked. 

"Yes." 

"I mean, no one knows *that* little about football, right?" 

He was saved by the door opening and a tiny voice crying excitedly, "Sam!" He reached out and took Andrea from her mother's arms, offering Donna a kiss on the cheek as he leaned toward her. "Hey buddy, happy Thanksgiving," he said, bouncing the little girl on his hip. He grinned back at Donna. "I smell turkey." 

"You do," she said. She smoothed down Andrea's hair and said, "She's been waiting for you all morning. Hi, Ainsley." She stepped back as Ainsley waved one hand. "Come on in." 

Sam and Ainsley both stopped by the kitchen - he suspected she'd be fleeing back there rather quickly - where Andy and a visiting C.J. were sitting at the table carefully chopping vegetables side-by-side. On one end of the table sat two baby seats, with Cissy and Caroline merrily kicking their little feet and batting at the colorful plastic mobile propped over their heads. 

"They have the neatest things," Sam commented, carrying Andrea over to her sister's side. "Look how it just sits on the table like that." 

"Yeah, it's so you can take the mobile around with you without having to hang it from something," Andy said. "It's supposed to stimulate them and promote left-brain development." She paused with her knife halfway through a carrot. "Or right-brain." 

"Probably good either way," Sam said. 

"Yeah." She tickled her daughter's foot and returned to chopping. 

Sam carried Andrea out to the living room, with Ainsley trailing behind. She disappeared, as predicted, back to the kitchen after saying hello to Josh and Toby, and Sam took his place on the couch with Andrea in his lap. After a few seconds she held out her arms and asked, "Daddy?" and Sam passed her over to Josh. 

"So," Josh said as he received his daughter, "now that we have a commercial break . . ." 

"Yes?" Sam asked. 

"You and Ainsley came together." 

Sam threw a look over his shoulder, but no one was there. "Very observant of you," he said. 

"So?" 

"So, what?" 

"You live on opposite ends of town." 

"Yes, we do," Sam acknowledged. 

"So how exactly did you end up bringing her here?" 

"I found her in my car," Sam replied, reaching for the bowl of chips between him and Toby on the coffee table. "I don't know, she must've gotten locked in there last week when we had dinner . . . can't believe I didn't notice until this morning." 

Toby was shaking his head. "Thankfully, the game is back on. Josh, you can pry into Sam's love life later." 

"How do you know we're talking about my love life?" Sam asked. 

"Because Andy told me you and Ainsley have been having lunch every day," Toby said blandly. "Or are the two of you plotting to overthrow the committee leadership and hijack the agenda?" 

"That," Sam said. 

"Excellent," Toby replied. "Did you see my daughter?" 

"She's looking lovely," Sam said, pulling the bowl of chips onto the couch. 

"She's wearing pink," Toby said. 

"Yes," Sam said slowly. 

"Andy claims she can wear pink. Aren't redheads supposed to - not wear pink?" 

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you," Sam said calmly. "Also, I don't think your two-month-old daughter is all that concerned about her hair clashing with her outfit." 

"I'm just saying, it starts here and next thing we know all the other kids are making fun of her at school." 

"The other kids are not going to make fun of her." 

"That's right," Josh said, tossing his daughter up in the air. "'Cause if they do, Andrea can intimidate them." 

"Well, now they have to go to the same school," Toby said dryly. 

"Does this happen to all fathers, or is it just you two?" Sam asked. 

"Is he complaining about the pink again?" Andy asked from behind them. She came around and perched on the arm of the couch next to Toby. 

"Where's Caroline?" he asked. 

"In the kitchen," Andy said serenely, laying a hand on his shoulder. "With Donna, C.J., and Ainsley. She's fine." 

"I would just like to say," Josh said, his eyes on his daughter as she hopped up and down on his thighs, "that I think I remember Andy wore a pink sweater to our house once, and she looked great." 

"Thank you, Josh," Andy said. She reached over to Josh and tickled Andrea, who wiggled a couple fingers and said something that sounded very much like "Andy." 

"That's right," Josh crowed. He grinned up at Andy. "How old do you think she has to be before she can intern? About - six?" 

Andy laughed. "Let's start with the page program, maybe?" 

"When she's old enough not to come out with 'Aunt Andy' in the office," Toby added. 

"Hey, nepotism is the system of kings," Sam said. He frowned. "Wait. That - doesn't work that well." 

"No," Andy agreed, shaking her head and giving him a fond smile. 

"Because nepotism really is the system of kings. Literally." 

"Yes," Josh said. 

"Okay." 

The couch shifted next to Sam, and he looked up to see C.J. sitting beside him with Caroline cradled in her arms. "Donna and Ainsley are out with Cissy," she said. 

"Was she getting cranky?" Andy asked, motioning toward her daughter. 

"No," C.J. said, shifting the baby up in the crook of her arm. "I just wanted to pick her up for a while." 

"Okay," Andy said a little more softly. 

Sam leaned over and stroked the back of his fingers along Caroline's cheek. She stirred and turned her big eyes toward him, her mouth opening and closing as though she wanted to say something. "Hello, pretty girl," he whispered. 

C.J. brushed her fingertips gently through the baby's red downy hair and bounced her lightly. "Toby," she said, "I absolutely cannot believe this child belongs to you." This Thanksgiving was the first time she had seen Caroline, and she was, if possible, more enthralled than she had been with Andrea and Cissy. Sam was putting it down to her relationship with Toby. 

"I know," Toby said with complete calm. "Sometimes I think Andy just cloned. What do they call it - when the thing just grows out of the side of the other thing?" 

"Budding?" Josh guessed. 

Toby pointed at him. "Yes. Andy decided to - bud - and Caroline just appeared as a little off-growth." 

"That's the sweetest thing I ever heard," C.J. said. She bent over Caroline in her lap and whispered, "Hear that, you little off-growth? That was your daddy." 

When Sam strolled into the kitchen, Donna was mixing stuffing at the counter and Ainsley was sitting at the table with Cissy on her lap. "Hey," she said when she saw Sam. She nodded her head toward the baby. "She got jealous when C.J. picked up Caroline." 

"Ah," he said. 

Donna glanced up from the stuffing and smiled. "I'm going to run and check on Andrea. Right back." 

Sam suspected she had some ulterior motive in leaving the kitchen, but he didn't care that much. When Donna was gone, Ainsley stood and walked over to him, cradling Cissy against her shoulder. "Hi there," she said. 

"Hi," he replied. He slipped one arm around her waist and ran the other over Cissy's head. "She's taken to you." 

"She's six months old, she doesn't know me from Andy," Ainsley said, reaching up to pry her hair out of Cissy's fingers. "We both have hair she likes to pull." 

"She knows you," Sam said. He let Cissy grab onto his finger and stepped closer to kiss Ainsley's forehead. 

"How's the game going?" she asked. 

"Oklahoma's kicking Alaska's butt," he replied. 

She laughed, and he bent down and kissed her, pulling away only when Cissy started to whack his head with her tiny hand. He seized the hand and kissed that, then pretended to bonk Cissy on the nose with it. "You have to stop with the hitting, young lady," he said seriously. 

"It's how she shows her love," Ainsley said, catching Cissy's hand before it could hit her in the face. "Also by kicking me in the stomach." 

"Well," he said, offering her what he knew was a completely cheesy smile, "we'll have to teach her another method, huh?" He kissed Ainsley briefly on the bridge of her nose, murmuring, "Rated-G version, baby in the room," and then kissed Cissy's hair. 

Ainsley shook her head and bounced the baby higher over her shoulder. "You are so unbelievably lucky I think you're cute." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Donna arranged them cleverly around the table, with Sam next to Ainsley, Caroline between her parents, Andrea between Josh and C.J., and Cissy between Donna and Sam. The two little baby seats got fastened to the chairs; Andrea was bouncing in a high chair that allowed her to eat off the table. It was the first Thanksgiving that she was able to eat the turkey and stuffing, albeit in tiny cut-up pieces, and Donna had a camera ready to capture the occasion. 

She looked at Sam as she sat down, and he shook his head vigorously. "Uh-uh. It's Josh's house, it's his turn." 

Josh sighed and dropped his napkin onto his lap. "Thank you all for being with us," he said, playing with his water glass. He reached over and pried a plastic safety fork out of Andrea's mouth. "Wait for the food, honey. Anyway. We're all so happy to have Caroline and Cissy this year, and it's - pretty fun to see Toby and Andy as parents, so . . . and it's great to have C.J. this time, and she better come every year. CNN can spare her for five minutes. Let's eat." 

"Do you remember," Sam said as they finished passing the dishes around and started to eat, "the Thanksgiving we all spent together right after the election?" 

"In '98?" Andy said. "I remember, I was there. In Manchester." 

"I wasn't," Donna said, looking up with interest. "I went home." 

"I remember that," Toby said. "Josh got hammered and called Bonnie 'Donna' all night." 

"And when we tried to remind him that you went home to Wisconsin, he called her 'Ginger' for the rest of the evening. But he called her Ginger half the time anyway, so that may not have been the beer," Sam said, laughing at the memory. 

"The President - the Governor - got mad at Ellie because she said he was carving the turkey wrong . . ." C.J. said. 

"And Abbey said Ellie was right, he should be using stroking gestures," Sam said. "And then Annie got completely grossed out and didn't want to eat the turkey because it reminded her of surgery." 

"Zoey spent the whole night talking to Andy about Barnard," Toby recalled. "We all thought she'd wind up there." 

"Annie gave the blessing," Andy said. "She was what - nine?" 

"Ten, I think," Josh said. 

"And she was so careful to say a non-specific prayer," Andy continued. "She changed the words to the grace we used to say in grade school, so nobody would be left out." 

"We were complaining about the Senate the entire night," Sam said. "The president was calling a lame duck session, and we knew he was going to push through the welfare reforms before he was out." 

"Josh tried to convince me to call up the Democratic leadership," Andy laughed. 

"I did not." 

"You were pretty drunk," she said. 

"Eleven years," Sam said. "I mean, I liked you all, but if you'd tried to tell me that eleven years later we'd all still be having Thanksgiving dinner together . . . with Andrea showing us every piece of turkey before she eats it." He grinned across the table at the little girl, who was proudly holding up the piece of turkey on the end of her fork. She grinned back, and Josh reached over to tousle her bright hair. 

"That's my girl, mastering the basics," he said. His eyes met Sam's, and he said, "Yeah, I guess this is a little different from a post-election strategy session over Dr. Bartlet's cranberry sauce." 

"This is better," Toby said, and although no one looked at him and he never looked up from his plate, no one disagreed with him. He quietly poked his finger into Caroline's grasp, oblivious to the sentimental smile Andy was giving him. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Someone in the office said something to me today." 

Ainsley looked up from her dinner and frowned. "About what?" 

"You." 

Now she really frowned. "What did -" 

"It wasn't anything really, just - Steve made a comment about my Republican girlfriend, and one of the interns looked up, so Steve told him that I was dating a woman on the minority staff . . ." 

"Better than telling him you were dating a man on the minority staff." 

"I'm serious." 

She bit her lip. "Are you?" 

"A little." 

"You don't really think this is a problem." 

"It is if that intern talks to Roll Call," he said. 

"Sam," she said, setting down her fork. "The intern works for you. If he talks to Roll Call, you can kick his ass. Plus - who cares?" 

"You don't think anyone would care?" 

"People have been saying that we were dating for years," she told him. 

"They have not." 

"They really have. I mean, not on the same level as Josh and Donna, but - some." 

"Somehow I really thought no one would talk." 

"They always talk." She shrugged and stabbed a chunk of chicken. "You of all people . . ." 

"Yeah, yeah, fine." 

"So you're speaking at Georgetown next week?" 

His brow furrowed and he tapped his fork against the side of his plate. "Are you changing the subject?" 

"Yes." 

"Ainsley . . ." 

"It's going to be fine, Sam. Tell me what you're talking about at Georgetown." 

He shrugged. "It started out to be a thing for Josh's class, but then they asked if I'd do a nighttime thing and open it up - I'm just supposed to be talking about how I perceive things have changed, you know, working in government three years after Bartlet. I'll mention Andy, but I'm not talking about her too much. I'm mostly going to be discussing the differences between the administrations, the different perspective from the Hill, the interaction between us and the current White House staff when we see each other . . ." 

"That - actually sounds interesting." 

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement," he grumbled mildly. 

"No, I mean, I hear you talk all the time, but that I'd like to be at." 

He took her hand across the table and tried to hit her in the nose with it. 

"Did you just try to pull the same thing on me that you pulled on our six-month-old pseudo-niece at Thanksgiving?" she asked. 

"Maybe." 

"You're holding my hand in public, you know." 

"This is the new, relaxed me," he said. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sam was in the middle of a story about running into the White House chef in a Safeway when one of the kids asked him, "Do you have a hard time dating, Mr. Seaborn?" 

The professor moderator, who was a woman of about forty, looked at Sam and then back at the student and said, "Does he look like he has a hard time dating?" 

The audience laughed, and the girl said, "No, I mean, do people pay attention to who you date? Like does it wind up in the paper?" 

"Sometimes," he replied. "It's the kind of thing that always happens when you become a figure in national politics - when you're close to the president, people pay attention to what you do. It's not just who you date, it's a lot of things - so that's definitely something to keep in mind, for anyone who's planning on working in politics. You have to be careful when you drive, when you go out, when you - use credit cards online on unsecured sites . . ." The audience laughed again, and he said, "But you can keep it quiet. You don't have to do flashy things, you don't have to call attention to yourself. But sometimes it can be fun, you know. Like for a few seconds, I was actually thinking it would be fun to propose to my girlfriend onstage at this lecture." 

There was a minor gasp followed by dead silence, and then Sam said, "Uh - but then I decided that would be tacky, so we're not going to do that. Any reporters who might be lurking in the audience - I am not engaged at this point." Then he went back to his story. 

When Ainsley met him after the lecture, she stormed up to him and said in as loud a whisper as she could manage, "You bastard!" 

"Hi, honey," he said, pulling on his coat. 

"Heart attack," she hissed. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. It was the best non-embarrassing way I could think of to work up to it." 

"That was non-embarrassing? And you thought you'd work up to talking about marriage by announcing in a university lecture that we're not getting married?" 

"Well," he said, slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her outside into the night, "I actually kind of announced we were thinking about it. And - sorry, I meant non-embarrassing for me. This way you couldn't actually say no. At least, not right away." 

"I could have stood up and yelled it." 

"You wouldn't have." 

She pinched her finger and thumb together. "I was this close." 

"I would never propose to you onstage." 

"Thank you," she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. 

"On that big screen at the baseball park, maybe." 

"Why not go for the gold? Aren't you going on Larry King next month?" 

"Are you kidding? I'm not waiting a month," he said. 

She started to laugh, and then she stopped walking for a second. Without looking up at him, she started again. 

"Ainsley?" 

"Yeah?" she said casually. 

"Are you pretending I didn't just say that?" 

"More like wondering whether you actually did." 

"I did." She still didn't look at him, and he pulled on her arm. "Stop." 

She turned to face him. "Yeah." 

He reached into his pocket. "If you're going to say no, you better do it now, because I actually did get a ring." 

"You did plan this, you bastard." 

He grinned. "Okay, not the response I was hoping for, but you haven't seen the ring yet." 

"You think I'm going to make a decision based on the ring?" 

He couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face. "Of course not." 

"I don't need to see the ring," she said in a softer tone. It was the first time she'd sounded really serious all night. He wished he could respond in kind, but he got nervous and had to laugh. 

"You want to see it anyway?" he asked. 

She opened her mouth, then closed it again and nodded. 

He opened the box in his hand and held it out to her. 

"Oh my God," she said, looking at it but not touching the box. "Did you - did you pick this out?" 

"Donna and I went shopping last weekend," he said, his hand starting to shake. He propped his elbow on his hip. "She brought Cissy. The guy in the store was giving me this look, like 'So you're finally going to make an honest woman out of her.'" 

Ainsley laughed and reached out one hand, fingertip just grazing the edge of the open box. "So this is Donna's input." 

"Well, before we left Andy told us to get a diamond-sapphire combination. We decided she was right - then Donna picked out a selection of six, and I picked this one." 

"Impressive teamwork." She looked up at him and smiled. "Good choice." 

"You like it?" 

"I love it." 

"Andy said sapphires were your color. She said it would look good on your hand." 

Ainsley nodded. "It's beautiful." 

He started to take the ring out of the cushion. "Can I . . . ?" 

"Yes." 

She handed him her right hand, and he smacked it away and took the left. She was biting her lip nervously as he slipped it on, and then all she said was, "It fits." 

"I measured your finger with a piece of yarn while you were asleep." 

"Good job." 

"Is this yes?" he asked, taking both her hands and holding them against his chest. 

"It's not too fast?" she asked quietly. "I mean, we have been dating for - about a month and a half." 

"But we've been together a lot longer than that," he said. "Haven't we?" 

"Yeah," she said with a small nod. 

"And we've been friends for ten years. Don't you think that's enough time?" 

"Yes," she repeated. 

"And, I mean, I know we were both dating different people for most of that time, but - we know each other. I've dated people for years who didn't know me as well as you do. And we didn't exactly have the normal dating progression \- we just kind of fell into the kind of relationship you usually have after you've lived with someone for a year." 

"That's true," she said. 

"And I don't want to waste any more time," he whispered. 

"Me either," she whispered back. 

"So?" 

"So, yes." She said it calmly, but it looked as if there might be tears forming in her eyes. He knew there were in his. He pulled her into a tight embrace and murmured into her hair, "Thank God." 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

When he told Andy at work the next day, secreted away in her office, she nearly screamed. Then she broke out in an enormous grin and threw her arms around him. "Boy, you work fast," she said into his shoulder. "I thought you were going to wait a while to actually ask." 

"Says the woman who got engaged at New Year's and had a baby less than a year later." 

"We had already been married once; I hardly think it's the same situation." Andy pulled back and looked at him hard. "She's not pregnant, is she?" 

"No!" He dropped his arms and sat on the edge of the desk. "That's the last thing we need - me marrying a lawyer for the opposition party, on one of your committees, and her pregnant out of wedlock into the bargain. Oh, no."   

"You are going to have children, though, aren't you?" Andy asked gently. "I mean, a blind man could see the way you are with our kids." 

"We - I mean, we haven't talked about it in the specific context of us, and when, but we both want children. Soon. We've talked about that before. All along." 

Andy nodded. "I know you both have been wanting a family. I know - how old is she?" 

"Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine in the spring." 

"Oh, she's young still." 

"I'm hoping - I mean, you and Donna both have had absolutely no trouble \- I'm hoping we can be as lucky." He coughed. "But that's for later." 

Andy patted his hand. "Actually, when Toby and I were married the first time? I went off the pill four years before we got divorced. I was in my late twenties when we first started trying - never happened. I suddenly became fertile at forty-four, when I didn't expect it anymore. You never know what could happen." 

"Yeah." He looked at her sympathetically, and trying not to appear sympathetic. "I didn't know - I thought you had never planned on - I mean . . . you waited a long time for Caroline, huh?" 

"About fourteen, fifteen years, give or take," she said. 

"We don't have that long." 

She squeezed his arm. "You won't need that long. I can feel it." 

He grinned. "If Ainsley knew we were sitting here talking about getting her pregnant, she'd hit both of us." 

"Hard," Andy agreed. "And she'd be right." 

"Yeah." 

"When are you going to tell Josh?" 

He snorted. "As if Donna hasn't warned him already. Tonight." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

They talked about waiting, then they talked about not waiting. When they finally did get married, it was early April in Hilton Head. C.J. bragged about having the shortest distance to travel, while most of Sam's family had to be transported from the Savannah airport. Ainsley's mother and sister moved into the beach house a week before the wedding to help get things organized, and the rest of the pack of Hayeses descended in carloads the day before the ceremony. 

On the day of the actual wedding, Sam found himself surrounded by little girls in pale blue dresses: Ainsley's nieces, Julia, Ruthie, and Dixie, who were all collectively their aunt's flower girls. Josh had apparently assigned them to babysit Sam while he settled Donna and the girls in the church - they had wanted to leave the babies at home in case they disrupted the ceremony, but Sam and Ainsley insisted. The little Bryson girls were taking the whole thing very seriously; ten-year-old Julia kept watch at the door to make sure he didn't accidentally see Ainsley, while Ruthie stood on a chair and straightened his tie. They had immediately adopted him as their uncle upon introduction. 

There was a moment of minor panic when six-year-old Dixie announced, "Mommy says we're having a new cousin," but it turned out she was talking about Ainsley's brother and his wife. For a second he had the horrifying thought that Ainsley might be pregnant and had told her sister but not him. That brief crisis over with, Josh returned and beamed at the roomful of little girls. "Thank you for watching Sam," he told them. 

"You're welcome," Ruthie said solemnly. 

Josh lifted Dixie off the high stool on which she had perched herself, with the calm of a man who had become used to small girls, and deposited her gently on the floor. "Why don't you all go wait in the hall for your Aunt Ainsley? We'll be ready to start in a couple minutes." 

They filed into the hall, with Dixie poking her head back in to announce, "Uncle Rob says five minutes, so if y'all have to use the bathroom, you better go now." 

Sam wasn't sure how much of that message was Rob and how much was Dixie, but it made him laugh anyway as he thanked her. 

Josh reached over and tugged at his tie for a moment, and Sam said, "Ruthie fixed it." 

"I can tell, it's actually straight." Josh stepped back and smiled at him. "Ready?" 

Sam nodded. "Ready." 

The door opened and Ainsley's brother Rob stepped inside. "Hey y'all. Minister's ready, you gotta go down now so the women can come out of the other room." 

"Okay," Sam said calmly. 

Rob clapped him on the back as they were leaving the room. "I was nervous when I got married. When I had to actually say 'I do' Eleanor had to prop me up. She had a grip on my arm like she was going to take it off." 

On his other side Josh laughed. "I don't think we have to worry about that. Sam's been ready for this for years." 

"Oh yeah," Rob said. "That friend of yours, the guy with the beard and the little redhaired baby? He says to tell you good luck, and it would be undignified for you to run down the aisle, so I should tell you you'll get there soon enough, and if that doesn't work Josh should hold you back. Also you shouldn't trip." 

"Very cute," Sam said. They were approaching the door of the actual chapel, and Rob held out his hand for Sam to shake. 

"It's my job to line up the girls in the back and hand 'em their flowers," he said, and Sam wasn't exactly sure whether he meant his little nieces or all the women. "Good luck, buddy." 

"Thanks," Sam said, watching him go. 

Josh tugged on his arm. "Let's go." 

The ceremony went unbelievably smoothly, all things considered. No one tripped, and nothing fell over. There was a brief moment where two-year-old Andrea yelled out, "Sam!" but her father quieted her immediately. Cissy was remarkably quiet throughout the whole thing, and Caroline apparently slept through it. The only child that needed to be carried out was one of Ainsley's cousins' children. 

The minister was the pastor of the church where Ainsley's family had been going every summer in Hilton Head for almost Ainsley's entire life. He had been completely willing to go over the wedding ceremony with them and try to make whatever alterations they asked - the word 'obey' was the first thing to go, but Ainsley also tossed the 'giving away' part of the ceremony ("my father can walk me up the aisle, but I am not a sheep") and Sam eventually asked to have 'you may now kiss the bride' thrown out. "Doesn't it seem a little hypocritical?" he'd asked Ainsley. She asked if that was his real problem with it, and he admitted, "No, also it makes me feel stupid." 

So after they'd managed to get through the vows, the minister pronounced them husband and wife and then waited obediently in silence for the kissing. The guests tossed little seeds at them, since Donna had explained that when birds ate the uncooked rice it blew up in their stomachs, or something. Sam got beaned on the head by an entire package of seeds - apparently Julia had handed her younger brother the package and said, "Throw these at Uncle Sam," without explaining that he was supposed to open them first. The culprit was easily identifiable by Della's dismayed cry of "Danny!" 

At the reception Sam danced with Ainsley, of course, and her mother, her sister, her grandmother, her sister-in-law, Donna, Andy, C.J., Margaret, Ginger, his mother, his sister, two aunts, and an assortment of cousins until he had to start splitting dances in half. He caught an occasional glimpse of Ainsley being passed among male relatives and friends, but he didn't get a real chance to talk to her until they had both collapsed, worn out and sore-footed, onto chairs with babies on their laps. He had Caroline, she had Cissy, and they sat side-by-side to watch the children's parents dance. 

"Toby and Andy look great," Ainsley said, bouncing Cissy cautiously on her lap. "I think Andy's enjoying the fact that most of the people here don't know who she is." 

"Undoubtedly." They both laughed at the sight of C.J. waltzing gaily around the floor with Andrea in her arms, chatting with whomever she encountered. "I think your cousin Dan is in love with C.J.," Sam said. 

"He's in luck, he lives in Atlanta," Ainsley replied. 

"You're kidding." 

"Nope. He probably knows who she is, actually. He watches the news channels sometimes." 

He leaned his head against her shoulder, ignoring the fact that Caroline was playing with his tie. "We're done," he said softly. 

"We are," she agreed. "In the long run, it was - pretty easy." 

"Certainly was." He wasn't entirely sure that she was still talking about the ceremony, but he didn't much care. He let Cissy grab his hand, and she said his name fairly clearly. "Andrea talks to her all the time," he told Ainsley. "They have whole conversations." 

"It's hard to believe she's almost a year old," she replied. "And Andrea running around like a little scooter." 

"Yeah." He lifted his head and kissed her, quietly telling her, "I love you," before prying Caroline off his shirt collar. "And I love you, too, little girl," he told the little baby copy of Andy, holding her up in the air until she laughed. Over Caroline's head he saw Toby smiling at him, and he smiled back. 


	15. Epiphany 15

 

**Epiphany**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Ainsley, Ensemble  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/Ainsley, Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, AU  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me, except for Robin and anyone else who might crop up.  
**Summary:** A post-administration story where Sam and Donna both work for Senator Wyatt, Josh teaches at Georgetown, and Ainsley works for the Senate Judiciary Committee and have an epiphany regarding each other.  
 **Spoiler:** Anything up to "20 Hours in America" is fair game, but nothing really specific so far. BUT spoilers for the end of season 4 - this story assumes Sam did not stay till the end of the administration. I'm still holding out hope, but for purposes of this story he left.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is unrelated to anything else I've been working on. If anyone remembers/was reading a J/D story I started last year called "Remembrance and Desire," I do plan to finish that someday. 

* * *

Sam stood at the door of the darkened room, letting the light from the hallway illuminate his vision. In the dimness you couldn't tell that the room was yellow, it looked more white, but he remembered the color vividly - it had been stuck on his hands for days. He had put the furniture together himself, with Josh's help, and then Donna and Ainsley had gone around putting heavy things on top of everything to make sure it wouldn't collapse. 

"Sam?" 

"It's dark," he said without turning around. 

Ainsley leaned against the wall just behind him. "Yes. It's the middle of the night." 

"No, I mean, it's dark. We forgot a nightlight." 

"No, we didn't," she said. "The lamp has a dimmer light in the base that you can turn on by itself." 

"Oh." 

"I'm sorry," she said. 

He turned around and grinned. "It's okay, honey, I wasn't that attached to getting a nightlight." 

She rolled her eyes. "I mean about the little, uh, unnecessary journey." 

"Hey, you didn't know." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her down the hall to the bedroom. "Next time'll be it, right?" 

"Absolutely." 

He rubbed his hand over her stomach and said sternly, "And you, small person. No more false alarms." A kick slammed against his hand and he said, "That better have been an 'okay, dad.'" 

"I thought it was supposed to stop kicking near the end," Ainsley grumbled. "The doctor said it was running out of room." They had chosen not to find out the baby's sex, wanting to be surprised when they actually met him or her. 

"Maybe now it's kneeing you," he said. "I'd be pretty mad if I ran out of room." 

"Great, it's not even born yet and it's already having temper tantrums." 

"Maybe it just doesn't want to be called 'it' anymore." 

"If you'd let me pick a unisex name, we could be calling it that." 

"You can't name a child without knowing what gender it's going to be," he said firmly. "We decided to wait, we're going to have to wait on that too." He helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her before climbing in himself. 

He tried to settle down to sleep, but he could hear beside him that she was lying wide awake. She pushed the covers down over her stomach and let both her hands rest on it, rubbing quietly. A few minutes later she started taking deep breaths, and he could feel her legs going rigid beside him. 

He finally sat up and brushed his hand across her forehead. "Are you okay?" he whispered. 

"I'm okay," she replied, sounding anything but. "It's just - the goddamned false labor doesn't exactly stop when they *tell* you it's false." 

He replaced her rubbing hands with his and rested his head on the pillow beside hers. "I'm sorry." 

"Not much longer," she said, but he could hear the wince in her voice. 

"Next week," he said, hoping to reassure her. "Next week you can have your body all to yourself again." 

She laughed, and her breath caught. She bent her knees up and took several deep breaths in a row. "Thought for a second it was stopping, but it started up again." 

He sat up and swung his feet down to the floor. "I'll get you a wet washcloth for your face, hang on." 

"Okay." 

"I can't believe they'd just send you home in pain like this," he complained as he went to the bathroom. "Couldn't they just let you stay and give you something?" 

"They can't give me painkillers," she moaned softly. 

"I know, but . . ." When he returned from the bathroom she was sitting up, leaning back against the headboard and cradling her stomach in both arms. "Are you okay?" Stupid question. 

She shook her head. "It has to stop soon." 

"Is it the same steady cramping?" 

"No," she said, sighing a little as he laid the washcloth across her forehead. "Now it stops and starts." 

"Mostly stops, or mostly starts?" 

She frowned, but after a second said, "If you meant does it hurt longer than the times in between - not really, I guess. It's stopped now, maybe I'll get a couple minutes." 

He settled down next to her and stroked her hair back. "You want me to call Donna? Maybe the same thing happened to her. Maybe there's something you can do." 

"I think they would have told me at the hospital if there was something I could do," she said. 

"We could call her anyway." 

"You just hate not knowing what to do, don't you?" she said, offering him a little smile. "Anyway, we shouldn't wake up the girls." 

"I guess." She winced audibly, and he glanced at the glowing digits on the clock. "That was, what, about five minutes?" he said. 

"Since the last cramp? Yeah, I guess." She breathed deeply for another few seconds, then relaxed. "Done. God, I hope this stops soon." 

"Um, Ainsley?" 

"Yeah?" 

"If this is a different kind of cramping from the first time, and it's happening about five minutes apart - should we go back to the hospital?" 

She looked at him for a moment in the dark. "No. That's ridiculous. I can't be in false labor one minute, and in real labor the next. Can I?" 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to rest against his shoulder. "Maybe it wasn't really false labor. Maybe they were wrong." 

"I doubt it," she said fondly, rubbing his arm. "I must just have a \- cranky uterus, or something." 

He started laughing but stopped when she gripped his arm. "Again?" he asked. 

She nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah." 

"Has to stop soon, right?" 

"Sure -" She groaned and squeezed his arm tighter. "Sorry," she whispered. 

"Hey, it's okay, squeeze away." He looked over at the clock again. "Ainsley, what are the odds you've been in 'false labor' for six hours?" 

She followed his gaze. "Apparently pretty high, because it seems I have been." 

"I don't know . . ." 

Her hand tightened on his arm once more, and she said, "Sam," in a tone that was more whimper than anything else. 

"Okay," he said, "we're going back." 

Her overnight bag was still by the door, and he had her back in the car in record time. By the time they arrived at the hospital she was gasping quietly, and her face had gone completely white. 

The nurse at the emergency room desk saw them and said, "Back again, Mr. Seaborn?" 

He guided Ainsley into the nearest chair and said, "This is for real, this time. She's been in pain since we got home, and now she's having pains five minutes apart." 

"Seems fast," the nurse said, frowning. 

"Could it have been labor the first time?" Sam asked. "Maybe it just *looked* false." 

The nurse shrugged. "Let's get you a wheelchair and we'll have you checked out." 

Within fifteen minutes they were settling Ainsley in a room in the maternity ward, and no one was uttering the word "false." Sam sat beside her bed, handing over ice chips one at a time and dialing his cell phone with the other hand. By then it was five in the morning; Josh and Donna were going to leave the girls at Andy and Toby's and make the drive out to the suburban Maryland hospital. Sam had been present for Andrea's birth and had been woken up in the middle of the night for Cissy's, and they wanted to be around for the Seaborn child's entrance. 

Sam reached over and took Ainsley's hand, having completed the last phone call. "Your mother's on her way to the airport to try to get a flight," he said. "Toby will go pick her up whenever she calls. Andy's staying home with the girls no matter what, until the baby comes. Josh and Donna will be here in about - forty-five minutes." 

"Okay," she said calmly. 

He smiled at her. "Drugs are working pretty good, huh?" 

"Yup. It's funny - it actually still hurts, but I care less." 

She wasn't saying that anymore by about eight, when the last stage of labor was in full force. By then she was starting to worry Sam - she wasn't screaming (like the woman in the next room, which was slightly disturbing), but rather looked as though she had given up. She sank back onto the pillows with no energy and looked at him with eyes framed by dark circles. He could do nothing but hold her hand, stroke her hair, and keep saying that it would be over soon. He wondered whether Josh and Toby had felt this absolutely useless. 

"Sam," she murmured at one point, "I don't think this is ever going to be over." 

"Shh," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "Of course it will. You're almost done now." 

"No, I'm not," she moaned. She struggled to raise her head and looked at the nurse. "Can't you just pull it out?" 

By the time the doctor returned Sam was fighting the urge to pace. He was contemplating asking if Ainsley could have some kind of anti-depressant when the doctor lifted his head and said, "Okay, we're ready to go here." 

"Really?" Sam said immediately. "Thank God." 

Ainsley gripped his hand. "Let's do it. Let's do it now." 

What followed was a great deal calmer than it usually appeared in the movies. No one shouted that they could see the head, although the doctor did announce in a perfectly normal tone that he was touching it. Sam declined the offer to watch for himself, choosing instead to stay up by Ainsley's head and let her crush his hand. 

"Okay," their doctor said with total composure, "here come the shoulders, it's all downhill from here . . . here we go . . ." 

Ainsley's fingernails were dangerously close to breaking the skin, but he was only half paying attention to the sensation in his hand. She was whimpering quietly, and he asked anxiously, "Is it out?" 

"Almost . . . and here we are." The doctor was lifting up a writhing red object which, when prodded, immediately began to scream. Sam was fascinated. Ainsley was staring at the ceiling. "Can you see it?" she asked softly. 

"Yeah," he said, awed. "It - doesn't really look anything like a baby from this angle, but it's pretty neat." 

"He looks great," the doctor said from the side of the room. "All the right parts, fingers, toes . . . his color is good, he's breathing fine. Congratulations." 

"It's a boy?" Sam asked in complete disbelief. 

"Certainly is," the doctor replied. "You want to hold him, or you want the nurse to wash him?" 

"Um . . ." He glanced over at Ainsley. "Honey, you want to hold him?" 

"Okay," she whispered. 

He patted her shoulder. "They're just wrapping him up." 

She frowned, her eyes getting teary. "Sam - Sam, he's still crying." 

He brushed her hair back and found an ice chip to run over her forehead. "He's fine. He's great. He's probably just a little cold." 

It still hadn't sunk in, by the time they placed the baby on Ainsley's chest, that he had a son. They hadn't known for sure, but he had been positive the baby would be a girl. Josh and Donna and Andy and Toby had only girls, and it seemed strange somehow that theirs wasn't one, too. When the doctor asked him if everything was okay, Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, I just - I kind of forgot they came in this model." 

Ainsley was crying and tracing her fingertip across the baby's forehead. His eyes hadn't opened yet, and he was rubbing tiny balled-up fists over his face. There was blood on him, and on whatever they had wrapped him in, and Sam was beginning to feel a little faint. 

They took Ainsley and the baby away at the same time, and another nurse led him down the hall to a regular room. Within a few minutes they brought him the baby, and the nurse said, "Ainsley's just getting cleaned up. They'll bring her here in just a second." 

"Great," he said, taking the baby carefully from her arms. 

"What's his name?" the nurse asked solicitously. 

"I don't know," he said, grinning. "We have to decide. All through the pregnancy I was partial to Laura, but I think the other kids would beat him up." He looked down at the baby in his arms and smiled. "Phew. You look so much more normal now, buddy." 

The nurse leaned against the wall, evidently waiting until they brought Ainsley in. "He opened his eyes for a second while I was washing him. He's a handsome boy." 

He pulled the knit hat off and ran his fingers through the light brown fuzz. "Hey, hair." He looked up at the nurse in some concern and asked, "His head will go back to a normal shape, right?" 

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "That's just from the birth. It'll round out again." 

"Good." He grabbed for the hat. "Let's just put this little hat back on so Mom doesn't freak out, okay? We can explain it to her later." 

When they settled Ainsley in the bed, she immediately asked, "Is he cute? It was hard to tell." 

"He's gorgeous." He stood up and carried the baby over to his mother. "Here you are. Look at him, he's great." 

Her forehead wrinkled up and held out her arms for him. "Oh my God. Look at him. He's - clean." 

Sam laughed and sat carefully on the bed beside her. "Yup. He looks terrific." 

She took one of the baby's hands between her thumb and forefinger and stroked each of the fingers in turn. "Are Josh and Donna still here?" 

"I asked the nurse to give them the message. I didn't get a chance to see them." 

At that moment there was a soft knock on the doorframe, and they looked up to see Josh and Donna waving in the doorway. "Can we see?" Donna asked. 

Sam grinned and waved them in. They came over to the bed and Josh said, "Sam, they wrapped her in the wrong color blanket." 

His grin grew even wider. "Can you believe it? We had a boy." 

"Oh, wow." Donna bent over Ainsley and rubbed her shoulder, smiling down at the baby. "Look at you. You're beautiful." 

Josh came around the other side of the bed and peered down at the baby, taking hold of one of his hands. "Hey, little guy. Hey there. Wow, he's big." 

"He's eight pounds, twenty inches," Sam said. 

Donna grimaced and squeezed Ainsley's shoulder. "Ouch." 

"No kidding," Ainsley replied. It was the first time her tone had sounded normal since the middle of the labor, and he was grateful to hear it. 

"What's his name?" Josh asked. 

Sam looked at Ainsley, and she shrugged. "We don't know yet," she told Josh. "We threw a bunch of them around, but we never settled on one." 

"What were the choices?" Donna asked. 

Sam stepped closer to her and slipped his arm around her waist, watching her watch Ainsley and the baby. "Well - Matthew, Michael, Christopher, William - Ainsley?" 

"Robert," she said, "after my brother - we thought about Joshua . . ." 

"We did," Sam confirmed. 

"But we thought Joshua Seaborn sounded kind of lispy." 

"It does," Donna said. 

"Thanks anyway," Josh said, beaming down at the baby. 

"Ryan," Sam continued, "Thomas, James, Jeffrey . . ." 

"Good Lord," Donna said. "You people need to learn how to prune a list." 

"You should see the girls list," Ainsley said. 

"I think the final contenders were John, Andrew, and Patrick. Wait, we threw out Andrew. Too many Andys around here already." 

"Patrick, huh?" Josh said, lifting the baby gently out of Ainsley's arms and holding him up. "I think this guy looks like a Patrick." 

"That was one of Ainsley's," Sam said. "You think it fits him?" 

Josh very carefully turned the baby around in his arms to face Donna, careful to support his head. "What do you think?" 

"I think we have a winner," Donna said. 

"Sam?" Ainsley said. 

"I like it." 

"Okay," she said, smiling up at him. "Patrick it is." 

While Josh and Donna visited with Ainsley, Sam ran out to call his parents and "get some air." He stood for a while just outside the main entrance to the hospital, trying to decide what an appropriate woman-who-just-had-my-baby gift would be. He had been planning to think of something in the next week, just before the baby was due - having forgotten Donna and Andy's experience that first babies of older women seemed to come early. They were lucky Patrick was only a week early. 

When the idea came to him, he actually laughed. The trip took even less time than he had expected, and on the way back he stopped at a florist. They had roses in her favorite shade, the yellow with the slight red tinge at the edges of the petals. 

He arrived back in the room with the flowers wrapped in tissue paper, and Ainsley lit up at the sight of him. "Hi," she said. 

"Hi," he replied almost shyly. He nodded toward Patrick. "How's he doing?" 

"Great. We tried nursing." 

"While I was gone?" 

"I wouldn't worry. There'll be a lot more times. And Donna stayed." 

He pulled the roses from the tissue paper and put them in the water pitcher beside the bed. While Donna and Josh watched, he pulled the long jewelry box out of his jacket and handed it to Ainsley. 

She took it with a questioning look on her face, opened it, and burst out laughing. "Pearls," she said through the laughter. 

"Natural, freshwater pearls," Sam said. "You can see the irregularities." 

"I love them," she said, still chuckling. "But whatever will you think of when we have a daughter?" 

"I'd say by then it'll be time for the summer house," he joked. 

The name they put on the birth certificate was Patrick Hayes Seaborn. Ainsley resisted and wanted to give him a regular middle name, but Sam won that argument. Mrs. Hayes approved, at least, when she arrived. She swept the baby out of Ainsley's lap and danced him around the room, saying, "I like the sound of Hayes Seaborn anyway. It sounds like a hotel, doesn't it, Ainsley honey?" 

Toby, who had brought Mrs. Hayes, held the baby and scrutinized him for a long time. "Well, little Pat," he said finally, "welcome to the family." 

On the second day they brought Patrick home, strapping him carefully into the baby seat in the back, and then redoing it twice to make sure he was in right. They carried him equally carefully up the stairs and laid him in the crib in the yellow nursery, and Ainsley spent a minute or so arranging the little blanket over him. He brought one fist up to his mouth and sighed softly, with one leg curled up to his body. 

"His head is still cone-shaped," Ainsley said, leaning against Sam. 

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed that," he said. 

"You didn't think I'd notice my son was a conehead?" 

"Thought it might slip by you." 

She laughed softly, careful not to wake Patrick. "It'll straighten out. We'll just keep his hat on when visitors come." 

The third day home the Lymans and the Zieglers, all of them, came to see the baby. Half a second after Sam opened the door, Andrea was tearing into the living room yelling, "Aunt Ainsley! Aunt Ainsley!" 

Donna caught up with her as quickly as possible, corralling her before she attacked Ainsley. "Andrea, remember we talked about being very quiet so we don't make the baby cry?" 

"Sorry," Andrea whispered loudly, and Ainsley burst out laughing. She held her arm out and hugged the little girl close to her. 

"Here he is, sweetie," she said. Before Andrea could take a good look her father and sister came into the room, and two-year-old Cissy asked, "Baby?" excitedly. 

"Here he is," Josh said, carrying his younger daughter over to Ainsley's side and setting her on the couch so she could see. Both girls peered into the blanket with nearly identical looks of awe on their faces. "Look, Cissy," Andrea said. "He's so cute." 

Josh, Donna, Sam, and Ainsley had to smother their laughter. Andrea was three now and thought she was about twelve. 

"You can hold his hand, if you want," Ainsley said gently. Andrea reached out and took hold of one of the tiny, flailing fists and a smile broke out across her pretty face. "Hi, Patrick," she said softly. 

"You can, too, Cissy," Sam said, sitting down next to the toddler. "Go ahead." He smiled as Cissy reached over and touched Patrick's leg with her fingertip. "Patrick," she whispered. 

"That's right," Sam said. 

A car door slammed outside, and Andrea said instantly, "Caroline's here." 

She was indeed, along with her parents. Andy set her daughter on Sam's lap where she could see the baby, and Caroline looked at him with wide eyes. 

"You don't remember this, Andrea," Andy told her namesake, who had climbed into her lap, "but you came to the hospital to see your sister, and you came to our house to see Caroline when she was born." 

Andrea frowned as if she were trying to remember. "Did she like me?" 

"Caroline?" Andy smiled and ran her fingers through Andrea's blonde curls, which by now hung down her back. "She loved you. Doesn't she love you now?" 

"Yes," Andrea said seriously. 

"What do you think of baby Patrick, Andrea?" Donna asked. 

"I like him," Andrea declared. 

"Good," Sam laughed. 

"Is he going to look like me, or Cissy, or Caroline?" Andrea asked. 

It took Ainsley a minute to figure that out, but eventually she said, "Well, probably a little more like Cissy. I think his hair is brown." 

"Okay," Andrea said cheerfully. 

Mrs. Hayes went home after a few days, but she was replaced by C.J., who had decided that Thanksgiving was too far from July and flew up to see Patrick. At first sight she picked him up, cradled him in the crook of one arm, and said, "Sam, I think I'm in love." 

"Pretty cute, huh?" he said, grinning widely. 

"He's gorgeous. This is the most beautiful baby boy ever." 

Patrick, by now a week old, looked up at C.J. with wide blue eyes and waved his hands at her. She captured and kissed one of them and danced him in a little circle around the nursery while Sam and Ainsley watched and laughed. 

C.J. stayed in their guest room. The first time Patrick woke them up that night, Sam stumbled into the nursery to find a tall shadow already rocking him in the darkened room. "Hey," Sam whispered. 

C.J. turned around and smiled at him. "Hey," she whispered back. She nodded her head toward Patrick, who was curled up on her shoulder. "I heard him." 

"Yeah," Sam said, coming closer and reaching out to touch his son's head. 

"Or does he need to be fed, or something?" 

"Probably not," Sam replied. 

"So it's okay that I picked him up?" 

"Of course," he said. "I'm afraid you won't get much sleep if you stay with us." 

"That's okay," she said softly. "If you and Ainsley can stand me, I'd rather be near him than anywhere else sleeping." 

"Okay," he said, smiling at her. 

"Speaking of which," she said, "why don't you go get some sleep? I'm only here a couple days, and I'm guessing you and Ainsley won't be getting any sleep for quite some time." 

He nodded. "Thank you." He kissed his son's head and whispered, "Goodnight, Patrick." Then he kissed C.J.'s cheek and said goodnight to her as well before slipping out of the room. 

Ainsley was awake when he crawled back in beside her. "That was fast," she whispered. 

"C.J. picked him up," he said, wrapping his arms around her. 

"That was nice of her." 

"She adores him." He tucked her head under his chin and settled back into the pillows. "I realized, when I was looking at him just now, that it's been a week and I never thanked you." 

"For what?" she murmured sleepily. 

"For Patrick." 

"You gave me roses and pearls." 

"But I didn't say thank you." He kissed her forehead and rubbed his hands up and down her back. "Thank you. He's - you and he are everything I've wanted for a long time." 

"I know," she said quietly, which made them both laugh. He ran his fingers over her wedding ring and glanced over at the baby monitor, from which he could hear Patrick's quiet sighs and C.J. humming something that sounded a lot like "It's Raining Men." He was laughing as he started to fall asleep. 


End file.
